Family
by EusYram
Summary: When an assassination attempt outs Loki as Odin's usurper, the Allfather decides not to waste his time harboring a wanted fugitive and simply banishes his rebellious Jotun son from Asgard. And Darcy Lewis just wanted breakfast, NOT for the psychopath who tried to take over Earth to come seeking refuge at the last place imaginable! Post-CA: TWS. Tasertricks! ;D
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, all. Please excuse me while I leave this crapola here.**

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After six months of S.H.I.E.L.D. visits, oath swearing, and contract signing, it appeared to one Darcy Lewis, research assistant extraordinaire, that things in the Foster-Odinson-Selvig-Lewis household had finally gotten back to normal. Or, at least as normal as things could get when there was a blond thunder god sitting on your living-room couch, drinking your beer, and watching Saturday-morning cartoons.

The aforementioned research assistant, wearing naught but booty shorts and a tank top, now appeared, bleary eyed and disheveled, in the kitchen-slash-office area. Hearing the sounds of what sounded like the _Monsters vs. Aliens_ theme song coming from the living room, she shuffled toward it and stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

All right, so the living room wasn't _technically_ the living room; it was, in fact, just a tiny room off the side of the open-concept main living area adjoining the kitchen, and had clearly been intended, by whoever had designed the homey London flat, to be used as an office or a small bedroom. But Jane, of course, had hogged the room designed to be the living room as her office/mad-science-laboratory space, taking up half the kitchen as well, whereas Darcy's brand-new HDTV and prize movie collection had to crowd in the definitely _not_-living room. In all honesty, Darcy found the amount of space and time Jane designated to her work and research, as opposed to good old-fashioned lazily sitting around and doing nothing, inhuman and appalling, even after what would soon be a year of living under the same roof as her boss/best friend/sister figure.

"Darcy!" boomed the space alien she had come to call her friend and roommate, upon noticing her in the doorway. "Good morning!" He appeared completely unbothered by her current appearance, having become accustomed to her sleep attire over the three months they had lived together. That, or he was hiding his disapproval because his own attire currently wasn't one he'd want to be caught dead in. The plaid pajama pants were innocent enough, but his T-shirt sparked a flame of amusement even in Darcy's sleep-addled brain. It had been a planet-warming present from Tony Stark, after he and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the rest of the Avengers had learned of Thor's intention to remain on Earth and protect the planet on a permanent basis. A deep royal red to match Thor's iconic cape, the shirt had no markings, other than one phrase, printed on the front in bold golden letters: "I have Mjölnir in my pants". Once the meaning had dawned on him, Thor had laughed heartily, Jane had blushed, and Darcy had taken a picture, for science (for Facebook). Ever since the thunder god had moved in with her, Jane, and Erik, and began doing all the utterly hilari-shareable things he did, Darcy had acquired almost as many friends and followers on Facebook as Captain freakin' America himself.

Darcy opened her mouth to say good morning, but all that came out was a long and loud yawn. Then she forgot what she was going to say. Flapping her hand in the general direction of the kitchen, "Coffee," she finally managed.

"You are in luck," Thor said, smiling. "Erik prepared a fresh pot before he resigned to his quarters." Then his smile turned sad and almost apologetic.

Darcy knew it pained him to see the damage his not-brother's temporary residence in Erik Selvig's brain had caused the astrophysicist, and she also knew he felt a considerable amount of guilt because of it. In everything Thor had shared with her and Jane about Loki, one theme remained constant: Thor was haunted by the thought that there was something, anything, he could've done, that would've prevented his brother from turning out the way he did.

No matter how hard Jane and Darcy had tried to dissuade him of this idea, Thor's fixation and anguish continued, so the two women had switched to merely reminding him every once in a while that what Loki had done was done, and that Erik was still Erik, no matter the occasional bouts of pantslessness and the utter lack of a sleep schedule.

Of the three remaining residents _with_ a sleep schedule, Thor and Darcy were normally the first ones up, while Jane preferred to sleep in until at least lunchtime. Darcy often wondered if that was part of the reason she had decided to become a research scientist—getting to choose your own work hours definitely sounded like an attractive bonus. Not that Darcy was forced to get up early; it's just that, until very recently, she had been a slave of the American post-secondary education system, where early-morning classes, exams, and 24-hour paper-writing fiestas were a thing of everyday life, and, well, her college sleep schedule had kind of stuck with her, even after graduation.

Having returned to the kitchen, Darcy now poured herself a hot cup of joe, taking a long sip before she had even bothered to add any milk or sugar. She made a face at the bitter taste, but decided that it was worth it as she felt the caffeine begin to ooze into her brain, chasing out the fuzzy dust bunnies that had settled there overnight. Feeling marginally more awake, she set out toward the refrigerator, hoping to score some milk for her coffee and for the Lucky Charms cereal she hoped Thor hadn't eaten the last of.

But she was barely around the corner of wall separating the stove from the fridge, when a column of bright, white, rainbow-y light, the kind unicorns often pranced through in children's imaginations and in acid trips, descended onto the balcony, which adjoined the kitchen. Darcy was entirely unfazed by this, noting only that the balcony had become a some kind of de facto landing pad for Asgardian travelers.

Once the rainbow-y light had cleared, three men remained on the balcony, clearly Asgardian.

"Hey, Thor," Darcy called across the room, "you better come here. There's some Asgardian dudes here to see you."

Thor's booming laughter carried out of the not-living room, and Darcy was _pretty_ sure he was laughing at something on the television and not at what she had just said. "What was that, Darcy?" he asked, once he had stopped laughing.

But Darcy's attention was back on the men out on the balcony, mostly because all three of them were now staring at her through the balcony door, and also because two of them were waving enthusiastically.

The waving warriors Darcy recognized immediately. They were friends of Thor's that she had met back in Puente Antiguo. Fandral and Volstagg, if she recalled correctly. The dude in the middle, however . . . . Darcy's eyebrows scrunched together as she took in his appearance. The black, green, and gold outfit definitely rang some bells, but those were silenced and pushed to the back of Darcy's mental cathedral as more worrisome details jumped out at her. First of all, the dude's hands were bound in front of him by a pair of some kind of fancy-shmancy handcuffs. Secondly, both Fandral and Volstagg had a hand clamped on each of his leather-clad arms, holding him in place like he was some kind of prisoner. _Oh, shit, he _is_ a prisoner, isn't he?_ But what Darcy found most unsettling was that the guy wore a mask of some sort on his face. Or was it a muzzle? It did only cover his mouth. _Great, Volstagg and Fandral brought over an Asgardian Hannibal Lecter._

Volstagg had let go of his prisoner and was yanking at the balcony door with both hands, unabashed by the fact that it was locked from the inside. Darcy took a step forward, hoping to unlock it for him, but at that moment, Volstagg yanked so hard, the door came completely out of its frame, clean with the hinges. Volstagg regarded the door in his hands for a moment, then shrugged and set it down out on the balcony, leaning it against the outer wall of the apartment. Darcy sighed and did a mental face palm. Thor had broken out that same door in his first week residing here. Speaking of Thor, where was the blond Thunder Wonder?

"Thor, Volstagg and Fandral are here, along with some dude straight from a BDSM sex shop," she tried calling again.

"Lady Darcy!" roared Volstagg, after having finally shuffled sideways through the narrow balcony doorway. Fandral and the prisoner (or the next big thing in fetish porn), being much slimmer than their companion, followed suit without a problem.

"Vols-" Darcy began, only to be scooped into a rib-crushing hug by the tall, burly redhead. _What is air—?_ And she was definitely _not_ in contact with the ground in any way whatsoever anymore.

"How have you been?" Volstagg boomed into the side of her head, and her ribcage literally shook with the sound.

Feeling her feet finally touch the floor again, and her lungs fill with much-needed oxygen, "Good," Darcy squeaked in reply.

Volstagg took a step back and patted her on the shoulder in a manner that wasn't _entirely_ bone breaking.

Next, Fandral took a step forward, and performed an elaborate bow.

"'Sup?" Darcy said.

"Lady Darcy," Fandral said to her boobs, "your beauty is a salve upon my heart, weary from the horrors it had witnessed back in my home on Asgard." He then lifted her hand to his lips, finally gazing deeply into her eyes.

Darcy was fairly good at reading men, and could tell nine out of ten times when she was being hit on. Fandral, however, had just cast subtlety so far out the window, it had flown straight over Obvious Avenue, and landed deep in Desperation Park. And that just wasn't how Darcy liked to do things. Nevertheless, Fandral _was_ probably the prettiest man she had ever laid eyes on (sorry, Thor), so although she didn't actually wanna do him (probably), she gladly enjoyed the eye candy.

Beside them, the prisoner made an unidentifiable sound beneath his mask, but to Darcy it sounded oddly like contempt.

"So, who's the cannibal?" Darcy asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the mystery Asgardian.

By the confused look on Fandral and Volstagg's faces, Darcy could tell the reference had gone way over their heads, but before she could get into a detailed recounting of _The Silence of the Lambs_, she was distracted by the dull thud of thick glass hitting linoleum-covered floor behind her and slightly to her right. Turning around, her eyes landed on Thor, who stood beside the stove, hand outstretched, fingers curled slightly as if the beer bottle they had held were still there. His lips were parted and his blue eyes wide as he stared at the prisoner in front of him, and his face had gone so pale, Darcy wondered where the ghost was.

"Brother?" Thor whispered, his eyes still fixed on the prisoner.

Darcy's jaw dropped, and she spun around to look back at the Asgardian bondage enthusiast. _Loki?_ _Thor's very much _dead_ brother?_ Unless Thor had another brother, whom he'd never mentioned to either her or Jane . . . . Bells were ringing inside Darcy's mental cathedral again, and this time, she listened. Images flashed through her head, short, blurry newscast clips, and longer, but even blurrier, YouTube videos, captured on people's cell phones and cameras, during last year's attack on New York. And the subject of these videos? A tall, lean, dark-haired man, clad in armor of black, green, and gold. The same man, wearing that same armor, that stood before her right now.

"Holy fucking shit," Darcy said, more to herself than to anyone.

Loki, and Darcy was certain now this _was_ Loki, took in his pajama-clad not-brother with an air of utter disinterest, until his eyes lighted on the saying on Thor's shirt. One of Loki's eyebrows crept steadily up his forehead.

Thor appeared to have rediscovered his voice, as well as his ability to move. "You live, Brother!" he cried out, and rushed forward.

Darcy, Fandral, and Volstagg quickly made to move out of his way. The back of Darcy's knees hit the seat of a kitchen chair, and before she could catch herself, her legs folded and she flew hard down into the chair. _Eh, might as well sit_, she thought to herself, crossing her legs and settling down comfortably, like she'd totally meant to do that.

The scene unfolding in front of her was proving to be a true spectacle, and she had the front-row seat. Thor had pulled Loki, who was still muzzled and handcuffed, into a tight embrace, and every muscle in Loki's body had stiffened to the point that it looked like Thor was hugging a plastic mannequin, rather than an actual living being. And although Darcy couldn't see most of Loki's face thanks to the stupid mask, she could tell from the expression in his eyes alone that his thoughts had turned categorically toward the murderous. And then, literally out of nowhere, her brain took this image of Loki, and instead plastered over it an image of Gromit the dog, a character from a series of British claymation movies that Ian had been making her watch, who, like Loki at the moment, had no discernible mouth, and performed all communication through the expressions of his eyes and the movement of his body alone, to great comedic effect. _And I've only had one sip of coffee_, Darcy thought to herself, and then snorted in a totally ladylike fashion. As Fandral and Volstagg's eyes turned on her, she considered disguising her snort with a cough, but then remembered that she wasn't even wearing any pants, and decided against it, since it's not like her integrity was unscathed to begin with.

Thor had stopped hugging Loki, but still had both hands clamped down firmly on his shoulders. "Speak!" he commanded, then turned to Fandral and Volstagg. "Explain yourselves!"

From her seat beside the kitchen table, Darcy cleared her throat and lifted a finger. "Uh, Thor, not to be Captain Obvious here, but shouldn't you, like, take off your dead bro's creepy-ass dog muzzle before he's gonna be able to tell us why he's, uh, _not_ dead? Unless he's gonna eat us all or start firin' his laser, in which case, by all means, keep it on."

And that was when Loki turned and full-on _looked_ at her, and all Darcy could do was stare back, slack jawed. The expression in his eyes was unreadable, but something about it made Darcy feel uncharacteristically self-conscious, like the very core of her being was getting judged. It wasn't just that this was the first time he had actually acknowledged her existence since he arrived on her balcony. No, this was something more, something unnamable, something neither friendly nor hostile, but not entirely neutral, either.

Loki's head twitched to the side as Thor's fingers came in contact with his neck, and he withdrew his gaze from Darcy.

_What the fuck was that?_ Darcy thought to herself, suddenly feeling very small and naked in her chair. Nobody, _nobody_, had ever been able to intimidate her just by looking at her, and this both worried and impressed her greatly. She now studied Loki out of the corner of her eye, feeling a grudging respect begin to grow inside of her for the dude, whom she had previously thought of as nothing more than an alien nerd who had gotten beaten up one too many times by his jock brother.

Thor worked on removing his brother's intricate mask, and Darcy's heart thumped in anticipation. By this point, she was probably as excited as Thor to hear Loki's story (and she had to admit, a part of her was also excited to see if Loki was hot, because hello, Norse god).

That is why she was severely disappointed when, once the muzzle was off, Loki remained turned away from her and silent. He did, however, raise his cuffed wrists to Thor's face expectantly, and Darcy thought she even saw a tiny smirk play across the corner of his mouth.

Thor appeared to be in deep deliberation for a long moment, as he considered Loki's silent request. Finally, he turned to Volstagg and Fandral. "I require the keys to his shackles."

Fandral, who must've had the keys, shook his head. "I would advise against it, Thor. You do not know what he has done."

"Fandral, the keys," Thor said, in a voice that left no room for argument, and extended his hand.

Fandral looked at Thor like he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but complied nevertheless.

"You try anything, Brother . . . ." Thor said to Loki, as he began undoing his handcuffs.

_Okay, that psycho is full-on smirking now_, Darcy observed, and a wave of apprehension rolled over her. She shot a look at Fandral and Volstagg, but both men's attention was on the mischief god, and their hands grasped the hilts of their weapons. _Okaaay, when Asgardian gods get scared, puny mortal Darcy gets scared, too._ It wasn't that she didn't trust Thor—she would entrust him with her or Jane's life without a second thought—but was Thor forgetting that his beloved bro had tried to kill him, on several occasions, no less?

The shackles clunked to the kitchen floor, and Darcy actually squeezed her eyes shut in a momentary flash of fear. When she didn't feel herself catch on fire or explode into a thousand tiny pieces, she slowly opened one eye, and then the other. _Whew._ The room was still there, nothing was broken or on fire, and everyone was still alive. A smug-looking Loki rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been, and Darcy could see faint red marks there.

And _still_, the fucking bastard said nothing.

"I saw you die," Thor growled at him, emotion pure and unrestrained in his voice.

And then, with a sigh so dramatic you would think the mere _idea_ of having a conversation with Thor insulted his intelligence, Loki spoke. "It wouldn't be the first time, would it, _Brother_?"

"You deceived me."

"Yes. Not that it was particularly difficult."

Darcy's eyebrow crept up her forehead. _The sass is strong in this one._

"I don't understand!" Thor yelled, throwing his hands up in the air and beginning to pace the room. He came to a stop in front of Darcy's chair, and finally, _finally_, Loki faced in her direction again.

Darcy peeked around the side of Thor's massive shoulder in a manner which she hoped appeared entirely nonchalant, and stared as she got a clear view of Loki's face.

_Oh . . . my._

What she saw was a smooth, clean-shaven visage, pale as death, with sharp, angular bone structure and light-colored eyes the specific shade of which she couldn't make out at this distance—green, perhaps? All this curtained by shoulder-length raven-black hair. _Welp, looks like there's no such thing as an ugly Asgardian, after all_, Darcy thought, because, despite looking somewhat like a crossbreed between a wraith and a vampire, Loki was still—yep, you'd guessed it—smokin' hot. Perhaps not a conventional heartthrob like the God of Thunder and Panty-Dropping or Fandral the Sexually Frustrated over there, but seriously, Asgard made evil look _goood_.

Darcy settled back in her chair, oddly satisfied that Loki passed the you-must-be-this-good-looking-to-come-from-Asgard requirement. Thor, meanwhile, began waving his arms up and down again. "Brother, why—"

But he was interrupted as a tiny brunette walked into the room, from the direction of the bedrooms, only to stop dead in her tracks as she witnessed the present congregation.

"My love!" Thor exclaimed.

Jane Foster's jaw was just about hitting the floor, her eyes glued to the God of Mischief.

"Good morning, Boo-Boo," Darcy cooed from her chair, giving Jane a sheepish smile and a small wave. "Lookit what the cat dragged in." She jerked her head toward Loki.

The small scientist, who currently wore plaid pajama pants to match Thor's and a gray T-shirt with the "Soft Kitty" song printed on the front (borrowed from Darcy—the laundry situation in the apartment was really very bad at the moment), appeared to gather her wits—and her jaw—and said, simply, "Hi."

There was a slight commotion as both Fandral and Volstagg rushed forward to greet her, Volstagg treating her to one of his characteristic hugs, and Fandral giving her a bow and a kiss on the knuckles, though, Darcy observed, this kiss was far more chaste than the one he'd given her.

Having given her greetings to the Warriors, er, Two, Jane strode up to Loki and jabbed him gingerly in the arm.

"Oh, I am real," he assured her, a small smirk lighting on his lips.

"I see you faked your death . . . again," Jane observed.

Loki's smirk turned into a full-on malicious, toothy grin, and he turned to Thor, saying, "Your woman knows me well, Brother!"

Jane, meanwhile, had just taken notice of the handcuffs lying on the floor. "And I see you didn't come here willingly."

"Yeah . . . what's up with that?" Darcy spoke up. "I've always assumed Loki would be into bondage, I just didn't think he'd be the one getting tied up."

If the Aesir in the room understood the sexual reference, they didn't show it. Jane, however, shot Darcy a quick disapproving look, and Loki appeared to leer at something in his mind's eye for a moment.

"Fandral? Volstagg? Well?" Thor said, turning to his friends.

"Loki has been charged with treason of the highest order!" Volstagg thundered, at which Loki was visibly pleased.

"Do not flatter him so, Volstagg," Fandral said. "Admittedly, his actions could have been far worse."

"All right," Volstagg stammered, "not of the highest order, then. But treason nevertheless!"

Jane squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, and Darcy felt a pang of sympathy for the tiny astrophysicist. She knew it was too early in the morning for the Boss Lady to be dealing with this shit.

"What . . . exactly . . . has . . . he done?" Jane asked, sounding uncannily like William Shatner.

"He usurped the throne of Asgard, and ruled in secrecy under the guise of the Allfather from the day of your misadventures upon Svartalfheim and until all but three days ago, Lady Jane," Fandral answered her gravely.

"And what of my father?" Thor interjected quickly.

"Odin lives, and is well," Volstagg reassured him. "Furious as a Jotun in summer, but well."

"Waaait, back up a bit there, dudes," Darcy said, her eyebrows knitting together. "When you say 'ruled under the guise of the Allfather', do you mean Loco over there actually made himself _look_ like Odin?"

Thor nodded. "One of many gifts passed down to him from Frigga, our mother."

"That's some crazy-ass shit," Darcy remarked. "But now I've gotta ask, if Lokes has been parading around as Odin for the past six months, where the hell was the real Odin?"

"Loki put a spell on him," Fandral said. "Put him into a . . . . How was it you put it, snake?"

Apparently, "snake" was a nickname Loki responded to readily, because he replied without so much as a pause. "Induced Odinsleep," he said. "Quite effective in neutralizing old men."

"You put our father under a sleeping curse?" Thor asked the mischief god. "When you could have taken his life, you spared it?"

Loki's lip curled into a mocking sneer. "Do not mistake a lack of resolve for mercy, _Brother_. I regret nothing more than not killing the old fool when I had the chance. But admittedly, I was not thinking clearly at the time."

Thor's bright-blue eyes softened, and Darcy wondered if he had picked up on some deeper meaning in Loki's words. If he had, it remained lost on her. But not one to keep her mouth shut for more than two minutes, Darcy already had another question bursting out her lips. "So, how'd they find out you weren't the real Odin?" she asked Loki, forcing herself to look straight into his face. "Did you try setting Asgard on fire or something?"

Loki did a flawless job of ignoring her, but thankfully, Fandral answered for him. "We would not have known he wasn't the Allfather, if an attempt had not been made on his life."

Jane, who had been cradling her face in her hands tiredly, now turned to Fandral with a pained expression etched into her face. "An attempt on _Odin's_ life? Or did whoever it was know that Odin wasn't Odin?"

"Loki was the target," Fandral said. "It seems his disguise did not fool everyone."

"Who attempted the murder?" Thor asked, eyeing his brother with genuine concern.

"'Twas a highly skilled killer," Volstagg said. "With strong magic of his own. Loki barely escaped with his life."

"Did not," the Asgardian prince in question huffed.

Volstagg snorted. "You had to call upon all your magical abilities to defeat him, sacrificing your Odin illusion and whatever spell you had keeping the real Allfather in eternal sleep."

Loki shrugged. "I'd sacrifice just about anything to save my life."

"You say that like it's a good thing . . . ." Darcy mumbled, only to get ignored, again.

"I assume my brother did not spare the killer's life?" Thor asked, earning a tiny smirk of approval from Loki. "Do you have any idea as to the assassin's identity? As to who hired him?"

Volstagg shut his eyes heavily and shook his shaggy head. "The killer was not a hired assassin. He came of his own volition. He was a bounty hunter."

Thor blinked. "A bounty hunter? Come to lay claim to my brother's life?"

Fandral, who had had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers, sighed and said, "Thor, your father's spies in the darker realms have confirmed it: There is a great reward being promised to whoever can procure Loki's head." A pause. "Just the head."

The room fell into an awkward silence. From somewhere in the vicinity of the bedrooms came the sound of a door opening. Darcy heard Erik's voice mumble something about not drinking coffee before bed, and then the sound of another door opening and closing. Ten seconds later came the sound of a flush, then running water, and then Erik must've disappeared back into his bedroom, because the silence in the apartment reached an otherworldly level of awkward.

Feeling like she would explode if somebody didn't say something soon, Darcy cleared her throat. "Jesus, whom did he piss off _that_ much? Oh, wait, that's probably a dumb question, isn't it?"

"It is an excellent question, Lady Darcy," Fandral said, "but one you best take up with Loki."

"None of this explains why you brought him here," Jane pointed out.

"Odin's orders," Volstagg barked. "The bounty hunter killed ten guards to get to Loki, and it is obvious keeping Loki imprisoned on Asgard would only bring more contenders to his head. Asgard already holds and protects the Tesseract, and that is danger enough for our people."

"Uh, here's a thought," Darcy said. "Why doesn't Odin just _give_ Loki to whomever it is that wants him so bad? He'd solve a god problem and make some extra cash on the side, right?"

Volstagg and Fandral both leered at her approvingly, but then Fandral said, "The Allfather knows of Loki's involvement in the battle upon Svartalfheim, and that he directly helped save the nine realms from a fate of eternal darkness. It is only because of this that Loki has been spared his life."

"Okay, that's great, but then what, Odin goes and tells you to take him to Earth instead? Doesn't he know what happened last time ole Lokes decided to pay us a visit? He must really hate us mortals something awful."

"The Allfather did not specify that Loki be taken to Midgard," Fandral said. "He demanded only that he depart Asgard. Loki was the one to ask to be taken to Thor."

Jane and Darcy exchanged a look that clearly said, "Are you shitting me?"

"Is this true, Brother?" Thor asked, his big eyes filling with hope.

There was a long pause, but finally, "Yes," Loki said.

"Uh, _why_?" Jane asked, taking the words straight out of Darcy's mouth.

The God of Lies shrugged. "Midgard needed to be warned."

"Oh, _hell_, no," Darcy said, suddenly very furious. "You're here because you want Thor to protect your sorry ass, _not_ out of good will, and don't you pretend otherwise." She shook her finger at Loki like a mother scolding a child. Loki ignored her. Bristling, Darcy continued, now addressing Fandral and Volstagg. "So, what, Odin thought it'd be totally swell to just drop this psycho on Thor's head? Wow, it's _Thor_ he must really hate, not mortals."

Volstagg and Fandral suddenly looked rather guilty, and Darcy wondered if there was some truth to what she had just said. She swallowed. "Odin doesn't actually hate Thor, does he?"

Turning to Thor, Fandral said, "Thor, your father urges you to come home and accept the responsibility of the throne."

"Then you shall tell him, my friend, that while I am forever in his service, my place remains here, on Midgard, protecting its people."

Fandral inclined his head toward Thor in a solemn bow. "It shall be done, my friend."

Thor clapped a hand onto Fandral's shoulder, and then pulled the man into a one-armed hug. "It was good to see you again, Fandral."

"You, as well, Thor," Fandral replied, patting Thor on the back.

"Volstagg," Thor said, letting go of Fandral and turning to the veritable giant in the room. "Send my regards to your family. I hope they are faring well."

"Not as well as they would if you came back with us, right now," Volstagg said, crossing his great arms over his abdomen.

Thor shook his shaggy blond head. "You know I cannot."

"Yes, well, 'twas worth a try," Volstagg said. He then uncrossed his arms, and his lips broke into a huge grin. "Oh, you know I cannot hate you, although you are a deserting dog."

Thor gave him a smile that was both thankful and apologetic, and Volstagg, shoving unceremoniously past Loki, wrapped his arms around the thunder god so tightly, Darcy swore she could hear even Thor's ribs cracking.

As Volstagg and Fandral proceeded to deliver their farewells to Jane, Darcy felt an icy dread descend deep into the bowels of her stomach. A major supervillain, back on Earth . . . . Was their little planet ever going to catch a break?

"I'm glad you're here, Brother," Thor said to Loki, at that very moment.

_I'm not_, Darcy thought, slumping in her chair.

She couldn't slump for long, however, because then it was apparently her turn to be told goodbye.

Volstagg approached her first, and she immediately stuck out her hand, lest she be picked up and crushed again. "Nice seeing you again, big guy."

"It was a pleasure, my lady," Volstagg replied, and enthusiastically took her hand into his.

Darcy decided then and there that he must've never shaken hands with a human before, unless, of course, near shoulder dislocation was part of the custom on Asgard.

Next came Fandral, who eyed her cleavage so lasciviously, she was pretty sure that's what getting eye-raped felt like. In response, she tried giving off her best has-a-boyfriend vibes, but either she failed miserably, or Fandral simply ignored them.

"Lady Darcy, should Thor ever lay claim to the throne of Asgard, with Lady Jane by his side, it would make me the happiest man in the nine realms if you were to come with them, so that I may lay eyes on your beautiful face once more."

"Yeah, okay, buddy," Darcy said, forcing a smile. _I don't think it's my face you'd be laying your eyes on._

Fandral reached for her hand, but she stuck out a fist instead. "Bump it," she said, in response to the confused expression on his face.

Giving her a smile that could probably impregnate a lesser mortal, he bumped her knuckles lightly, presented her with a small bow, and then he and Volstagg headed for the balcony doorway.

Once outside, Fandral looked up at the sky, and said, "Heimdall, we are ready."

"Hey, Thor," Volstagg said, suddenly turning to face his royal friend with a grin. "Fantastic shirt."

Then came the rainbow light again, and the two warriors vanished in its midst, leaving nothing in their wake except an intricate pattern burnt into the concrete floor of the balcony.

Oh, and one very disgruntled-looking God of Mischief.

* * *

**So, that happened. Leave a review if you enjoyed and/or wish me to continue... whatever this is. As things stand, I foresee way more Loki/Darcy interaction in the next chapter. TBH, this chapter was kinda shitty in that regard. :S**

**Thanks to all for reading thus far!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Yes, I'm back with chapter two of this crazy little story. But before I let you guys jump to it, I just wanna say how utterly overwhelmed I am by the reaction I got to the first chapter. I've never had such an instant positive response to any story ever, so to everyone who faved, followed, and reviewed, I wanna say THANK YOU! You guys ROCK!**

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"We're not actually letting him stay here, are we?" was the first thing Darcy said, once Volstagg and Fandral had disappeared.

Thor turned away from the balcony, looking surprised. "Why not?"

"Uh, because he's a murderer?"

"All you see is the darkness within him. But I know there is also light."

"Um, Thor?" Jane said from beside Darcy. "Can we talk, in private? Just for a quick sec."

_Great_, Darcy thought, immediately picking up on the telltale signs that Thor and Jane were about to have one of their little "fights". And Jane and Thor's fights weren't like normal people's fights. Voices were never raised, and nothing was ever thrown or broken (which was surprising, considering Thor's being involved). All in all, their confrontations boiled down to one-on-one conversations in hushed tones, which would've be fine and all, if the discussions didn't have the tendency to go on for hours, or, as in the case of the feral-pigeons-not-being-a-substitute-for-store-bought-chicken debate of month two, several days.

As Jane and Thor isolated themselves to the doorway of the not-living room to talk, Darcy wondered if they were expecting her to keep an eye on Loki in the meantime, or if she could feel free to go and jump off the balcony now. It wasn't like Loki was doing anything suspicious, anyway. In fact, he hadn't moved or said anything since Darcy chewed him out for lying about the reason he had come here. Darcy decided to use his silence to her advantage, straining her hearing in an attempt to catch something of what Thor and Jane were saying. She thought she heard choice phrases like "Brother", "New York", and "Helped save your life" float their way over to where she was sitting.

She was so focused on listening in on Jane and Thor's conversation, she was physically startled when Loki finally showed a sign of movement. Turning her full attention to him, she watched as he straightened his back and looked around the room deliberately. He paused on the gaping frame of the balcony doorway, before shaking his head and walking over for a closer look. Darcy watched on as he studied both the empty frame and the severed door, and then returned to the kitchen.

_What the hell is he up to?_ she thought to herself curiously.

Loki stopped in the middle of the room, and, with all the grace and fluidity of a Tolkien elf, shrugged out of his gold-plated overcoat and hung it on the back of a chair. He remained now in his black breastplate and the knee-length leather jacket he wore over it, and Darcy couldn't help but notice that the two accentuated his long, lean form very, very nicely. Perhaps he caught her staring, because suddenly, he was walking over.

He came to a stop two feet away from her chair. "I see my brother hasn't learned much in the way of manners since arriving here," he said, his tone gentle and his expression unsettlingly friendly. "That, or introducing one's brother to one's friend isn't common courtesy on Midgard."

Darcy stared at him dumbly, not quite registering that he was actually talking to her.

When she didn't say anything for five seconds, Loki continued. "I am Loki, Prince of Asgard. But I assume you already know this, Lady . . . ?"

_For Christ's sake, say something._ "Darcy," she spluttered. "Er, Assistant of Jane."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, _Darcy_," Loki said, and held out his hand to her.

Darcy regarded his outstretched hand distrustfully, still wary after the Volstagg handshaking incident. Also, why was Loki suddenly being all Mr. Nice Guy? It was kind of beginning to creep her out. Nevertheless, not being one to show weakness in front of an adversary, even if said adversary was an eons-old god with superpowers, Darcy decided to throw caution to the wind and just shake the dude's stupid hand.

She had been half-expecting his hand to be icy cold, and was mildly surprised when it felt like any human hand. Cooler, perhaps, but smooth and dry and overall pleasant. Loki grasped her hand firmly, but gently, and shook it in a manner her hand and arm could totally handle. _Volstagg should take handshaking lessons from this guy, seriously._

Letting go of her hand, Loki cocked his head to the side in a manner that made him look _almost_ innocent, and said, "Darcy, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"If it's killing Thor or taking over the world, the answer is no," Darcy said, then immediately wondered if Loki reacted well to other people's snark. Not that she thought he'd hurt her with Thor right around the corner, but she didn't want him to go back to ignoring her, either, not now that she was genuinely curious what his game was.

The corners of Loki's mouth appeared to twitch upward for a moment, and she thought she saw a flash of _something_ behind those green eyes of his (or were they gray?), but then his expression went back to the friendly-innocent veneer he'd worn before. "I assure you, my lady, my intentions are far less despicable. I wish merely to repair the door my mighty friend Volstagg had accidentally disassembled upon bringing me here, but I will require your assistance."

Darcy did her very best to keep her disbelief from showing itself on her face. "Sure," she said. _Okay, I'll play along._

Casting a look at Jane and Thor to make sure they were still in deep conversation, Darcy got up and followed Loki out onto the balcony.

Her exposed skin was immediately hit by a warm breeze and direct sunlight, and she was happy to see that early May was treating London to another beautiful day. Forgetting for a moment who she was with, Darcy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stretched, raising her arms straight to the sky, and then letting them fall slowly on either side of her. When she opened her eyes again, Loki was watching her.

He stood at an angle that allowed the sunlight to fall fully on his face, and, out of the shadows of the apartment, Darcy felt like she was seeing him for the first time. There was nothing malicious about his expression as he waited patiently for her to finish her stretch. In fact, he looked more relaxed out on the balcony with her than he had since arriving here. Gone were the hard lines from his face, making him look, by Earth standards, about five years younger. And she could finally clearly make out the color of his eyes. They weren't gray, or green, but a bright, clear silver-blue. Looking at him now, Darcy mentally took back everything she had previously thought about Loki not being as beautiful (yes, _beautiful_) as Thor or Fandral. Hell, without the has-been-rock-star hair or the ever-present maniacal glint in his eyes, he could probably be even more so.

Not that that changed how she felt about him, because she still only trusted him as far as she could throw him, and Darcy had a lousy throwing arm.

Nevertheless, Loki was doing pretty well at maintaining his good-guy charade so far, which made Darcy all the more eager to find out just what exactly he was up to. And she had a few tricks up her sleeve for annoying difficult-to-get information out of people.

Step one was to act clueless and play along.

"So, what do you need me to do?" she asked the mischief god, in the most innocent tone she could manage.

Loki picked up the balcony door and held it up in the doorway. "Do you think you could hold the door, like I am doing now?"

Darcy walked over to the door and tried its weight in her hands. Being very thin and mostly glass, the door was very light. "Yeah, I can do that," she said.

"Good," Loki said. "Just keep holding it up like that."

He allowed Darcy to take on the full weight of the door, meanwhile turning his attention to the half-dozen small screws littering the floor of the balcony. With a small wave of his right hand, and to Darcy's unconcealed amazement, he sent three of the screws soaring into the air toward him. With the screws now floating mere inches away from the outstretched fingers of his right hand, he flicked his left wrist and Darcy felt a slight tug on the door as he aligned the frame wing of the upper door hinge with its proper position against the doorframe. Continuing to use his left hand to keep the hinge wing aligned, he undulated the fingers on his right hand and sent the three screws propelling toward their respective holes in the wing.

Darcy watched, awestruck, as the screws, well, screwed themselves in, her eyes flickering every once in a while to appraise Loki's face, which displayed such intense concentration, she thought she could almost _feel_ the power coming off of him.

After a final tightening of the screws in both the frame wing and the door wing of the upper door hinge, Loki turned his attention to the lower hinge. Getting down on one knee for a better view—not up her shorts, Darcy hoped—Loki performed a rinse and repeat of what he had done with the upper hinge, which, Darcy had to admit, was no less amazing to watch the second time around.

Finished with the lower hinge, Loki got back to his feet. "You may let go of the door now," he instructed Darcy.

Darcy did as she was told, and then watched Loki test the door by opening and closing it several times. It appeared to be working perfectly.

He shut the door a final time, and turned to Darcy with a smug expression on his face. "Ta-da!" he said, flashing her a toothy smile.

Darcy shrugged. "That was pretty cool, I guess."

"'Pretty cool'?" Loki repeated, and Darcy was pleased to see her plan was working perfectly when his face fell visibly. "Do not tell me you've witnessed such magic before, mortal?"

"Magic? That? All I saw was a bit of telekinesis, and Thor does that all the time when he summons Mew-mew. So, you know, old news."

Loki looked at Darcy for a long moment, and she could almost see his altruism act beginning to crack. But it appeared his self-control was better than what Darcy had given him credit for, because the next moment, he was looking calm and amicable again.

_Damn it_, Darcy thought. _So close._

Loki inclined his head toward her with a polite, defeated smile. "Perhaps I will have better luck impressing you next time, Lady Darcy." He turned away from her and back toward the door into the apartment.

"Whoa, hold up there, Jazz Hands," Darcy said, catching him by the sleeve of his jacket.

Loki turned around. "What is it?"

"Since you're such a handyman and all, I was wondering if you could take a look at our bathtub." She gave him her sweetest, most innocent smile.

Loki took the bait. "What appears to be the problem?"

"Well, when Jane and I first moved in here, every time one of us would try to take a shower, the tub would make a sound like _ksssssshpppffffttttttttghhhhhhhhhhhh_. So, you know, super annoying. But then Thor came and tried banging on it with Mew-mew, and it started making this sound like _FFFFFDRRRRRRSHUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHMMMMMMM_ and just spraying water all over the floor, and on Thor, and on Jane, and on me, and everything got super soaked, and—"

"_I see,_" Loki hissed, and Darcy saw it, plain in his crystalline eyes: _annoyance_.

"So? Will you fix it?" she pressed on.

And finally, Loki cracked. "Perhaps if my brother and Lady Jane approve of my staying here, I will give it a look."

_Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!_

"Are you serious?" Darcy asked. _This is so pathetic, I can't even—_ "_That's_ why you've been acting so nice to me, so I'd go and put in a good word for you to your glorified babysitters?"

Loki's poker face could've won him the World Tour. "What do you think?"

"I think you're gonna betray us the first chance you get."

Loki's lip curled, and every last drop of good-naturedness disappeared from his face. "Then you better hope I never get the chance, Little Mortal." He pushed past her and went to stand at the balcony's parapet, and Darcy knew the conversation was over. With a huff, she went back inside the apartment.

By the sink, Jane was making a fresh pot of coffee, while Thor ruffled around in a cupboard beside her legs.

"So, what's the verdict?" Darcy asked, suddenly remembering her own cup of coffee, which she had left sitting beside the coffeemaker. She picked it up and took a long sip.

"Loki's staying," Jane said, with an apologetic smile.

Darcy spat her entire mouthful of coffee into the sink, and it wasn't because it was bitter and cold. "_What?_"

"He saved my life, Darcy. I owe him."

"And he is family," Thor said, coming up from the cupboard with a handful of plates.

Darcy downed the rest of her coffee in one go. "Welp, I guess I'll go tell Erik."

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**Darcy has being annoying down to a science. :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**As always, thanks to anyone who read, favourited, followed, or reviewed! :)**

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"Loki?"

"Loki."

"_Loki?_"

"_Loki._"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"On our balcony?"

"At this very moment."

"But I thought he was dead."

"As did everyone else."

"Oh. Very well."

Darcy, sitting in Erik's office chair, which she had rolled over to the side of his bed, shook her head. "'Very well'?"

Erik Selvig shrugged. He sat on the edge of his bed, wearing a white T-shirt and boxers (_thank God_ he'd switched to those from tighty-whiteys). "I don't know what you want me to say, Darcy. You know I'm not his biggest fan, but I trust Jane and Thor enough to think that they've made the right decision."

"_I_ trust Jane and Thor enough to take them to a psychologist to get their heads checked. Seriously, I feel like the only sane person left in this apartment."

Erik chuckled and shook his head. "Darcy, Darcy, Darcy. Always the confrontationist."

Darcy huffed. "I'd rather be a confrontationist than _not care_."

"Who said I don't care? I care strongly, for you, and for Jane and Thor. But would you like to know something, Darcy? Something I've learned from both New York and Puente Antiguo?"

"Probably not the same thing I learned, but shoot."

"When the poop hits the fan, Darcy, you have no choice but to fly with the castoff, because if you try to go against the flow, you'll just end up hitting the blades. Does that make any sense?"

"You just compared Loki to a piece of shit, so yeah, I'm following."

"Just think about what I said, okay, Darcy?"

"Yeah, okay, Erik." Darcy patted the older man on the knee. "Sorry I woke you up, by the way. Just wanted to give you a heads-up about our guest before you ran into him and gave yourself a heart attack."

"Oh, it's okay, Darcy. I wasn't sleeping."

Darcy looked at Erik over the rims of her glasses pointedly. "Yeah, I wonder why. I had some of that coffee you made, and it wasn't decaf."

Erik chuckled again. "No, I needed the boost."

Darcy raised her eyebrows at him. "Before going to _bed_."

Erik nodded. "Ever been too tired to sleep, Darcy?"

Darcy's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Uh, no, can't say that I have."

Erik smiled at her weakly. "Then I guess it must be a side effect. And I think that coffee worked too well, unfortunately. I hope you and Jane won't get mad if I dig out my stash and take a sleeping pill, just this once?"

Darcy gave him a reassuring smile, and nodded. "Trust me, with the craziness out there right now, I don't blame you for wanting to sleep the day away."

"Thanks, Darcy."

With a final nod at Selvig, Darcy got out of the office chair, rolled it back to Erik's desk, and then headed for his bedroom door.

"Oh, Darcy?" Erik called, when Darcy was already halfway out the door.

"Yeah?" she said, turning around.

"What did you learn from Puente Antiguo and New York?"

Darcy smirked. "Don't trust the God of Mischief."

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**Uhhh, I apologize for this truly pathetic excuse for an update. Hopefully next chapter will make up for it. ^^'**


	4. Chapter 4

**_FINALLY._** **Wow, guys, I am so sorry. I did not expect this chapter to take so long, but then real life came along and kicked me in the ass. -_- But anyways, here it is, chapter four. Enjoy!**

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Darcy had informed Thor and Jane early into that morning that although she shared none of Thor's familial attachments or Jane's feelings of debt when it came to Loki, she would not depart from the apartment. Not that Thor and Jane had wished her departure; in fact, after Darcy had returned from talking to Erik, they had practically, and with complete sincerity, begged her not to leave, all the while assuring her that somehow, they would make this new living arrangement work. And finally, after having watched Jane wring her hands and cast her plaintive looks all through breakfast, Darcy had caved and admitted she agreed that Loki should not be "kicked to the curb", as she had put it, just yet. After all, she had said, if Loki remained with them, Thor could keep a constant eye on him, and do what was necessary if Loki ever tried to betray them. Thor did not particularly like thinking about what Darcy meant by "what was necessary", but he respected her opinion of his brother, nevertheless. He valued Darcy greatly as a friend, and he was just glad she was staying.

But then had come the question of actual housing arrangements. Jane's apartment had three bedrooms (four, counting what Darcy referred to as the not-living room), and up until now, Darcy had had a bedroom to herself, Erik had had one to himself, and Jane and Thor had shared the master. But the addition of Loki to their ragtag little family now promised to shatter this convenient arrangement.

Jane had immediately suggested sacrificing the not-living room and turning it into an actual bedroom, but Thor and Darcy put up such a protest, the idea was quickly put on the backburner. The not-living room had become Thor and Darcy's solitary escape from Jane and Erik's nearly apartment-wide science takeover, and they had valiantly defended it from invasion many times before.

So, the focus had been shifted to the three remaining bedrooms. A unanimous decision was made immediately that Erik should be least affected by Loki's moving in, and should therefore be allowed to keep his bedroom to himself. Which left two bedrooms and four people. And since three people could not hope to have enough room even in the large master bedroom, everyone knew someone would have to bunk with Loki. And it was not going to be Darcy or Jane.

And so, it had been decided right around luncheon time that Darcy would move into the master bedroom with Jane, and Thor and Loki would have Darcy's room. The master room had a queen-sized bed Darcy and Jane would share, while Loki would have Darcy's old twin sized, and Thor would make do with a double-sized air mattress Jane owned. Darcy and Thor knew they would get their own beds eventually, but not until Jane's next paycheck (or two).

And then had come the Bilgesnipe-sized task of moving Thor and Darcy's personal belongings and furniture. Although the so-called "heavy" lifting was nothing for Thor, it did prove to be taxing on Jane and Darcy, petite as they were. Darcy, of course, did not fail to voice her disgruntlement, making loud comments in the direction of the balcony that if Loki would just "stop being a selfish ass", as she put it, and come inside and help them, he could probably "move this crap with a wave of his hand", thus making her, Jane, and Thor's job that much easier. Thor knew this was true, but he did not wish to bother his brother just yet. Loki had just been denied the throne of Asgard, and personal experience told Thor that that did not put one into the best of moods.

By the time all the belongings had been moved, all the furniture had been rearranged, and both bedrooms had been tidied and reorganized, it was close to nine o'clock in the evening, and Thor, Jane, and Darcy were starving and exhausted. Or rather, Darcy and Jane were exhausted. Thor was just hungry.

"What are we making for dinner tonight, my love?" he asked Jane, as he, Jane, and Darcy sat at the kitchen table, with Darcy and Jane slumping over the tabletop.

Jane made a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, and lifted her head from her arms just enough to gaze at Thor blearily. "Sweetheart, I don't think I have the energy to cook anything with you tonight. How about we just order pizza?"

"Even better!" Thor thundered. "But we must order from Papà Luigi. His is the best."

"Sure," Jane said, getting out of her chair. "Now, where'd I leave my cell . . . ?"

"_Yeaaah, Papà Luigi's,_" Darcy moaned from her seat, without even lifting her head. "Good call there, Thunder Wonder." She raised the palm of her hand in Thor's general direction, and Thor high-fived it gently.

The pizza arrived thirty minutes later, three extra-large pepperonis. Jane had figured Thor and Loki would eat a whole pizza each, she and Darcy would share the third, and any leftovers would be saved for Erik. After paying the pizza-delivery man at the door to their apartment, Jane carried the three boxes into the kitchen, where Thor and Darcy awaited her eagerly.

"Perhaps someone ought to go fetch Lone Ranger from the balcony?" Jane suggested, setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen table.

Thor shook his head. "I do not think he will come, if we are to do that. Let me go to him instead."

"You know him better than anyone," Jane said, nodding her understanding. "Do what you think is right."

Jane was right, Thor thought, as he picked up two pizza boxes and got two bottles of ale from the fridge, he did know his brother better than anyone, at least anyone left alive, and if he knew Loki at all, Loki was going to treat his arrival the same way a stone wall treated the arrival of an oncoming train.

Loki did not even look at him as he stepped outside, carefully balancing the food and ale in his hands. To the contrary, his brother's attention was fixed, unwavering, on the clear night sky above. The sun had long since set, leaving the sky a deep midnight blue in its wake, and the myriads of stars that speckled it gave it an almost Asgardian quality. Thor thought he now understood at least part of the reason why Loki had chosen to remain out on the balcony for so long.

As for Loki himself, Thor could not help but notice how thin his brother looked wearing nothing but his breastplate and leather-armor jacket. Thinner than he had looked when he had led the attack on New York. Even thinner than when he had died in Thor's arms on Svartalfheim. Thor realized at that moment that knowing it had been a trick did not make the memory any less painful or scarring, but having Loki be with him, alive, even under these circumstances, was the first step on the road to healing.

"It is a beautiful night, is it not, Brother?" Thor asked, coming up to stand beside Loki at the parapet. He set one pizza box, the one meant for Loki, down on the parapet between them, and the other, the one meant for himself, on the parapet to his right. He set the two bottles of ale down beside his pizza box.

"It is nothing like home," Loki said, lowering his gaze from the stars and spanning it over the barren London rooftops instead.

Hearing Loki call Asgard his home and knowing Loki could never go home brought a burning into Thor's chest he could not supress. "I know," he said. "I am sorry, Brother."

There was a beat in which neither man said anything, and the only sounds were the wail of police sirens from the street below and Jane and Darcy's laughter carrying in from the kitchen.

"I have brought you something to eat," Thor said, when the beat had lasted too long.

"I am not hungry," Loki returned immediately.

"You have eaten nothing all day. You cannot not be hungry. Besides,"—Thor lifted the top of Loki's pizza box—"this is delicious."

It was not long before the intoxicating aroma coming off the pizza hit Thor's nostrils, which meant it had to be hitting Loki's nostrils, too. After a prolonged moment, Loki inclined his head a fraction of an inch toward the pizza box, and side-eyed its contents distrustfully. "None of that resembles food," he told Thor.

"That was precisely my reaction when Jane and Lady Darcy first introduced me to this delicacy. But there is really nothing unusual about it. Look." Thor opened his own pizza box, and lifted out a slice of pizza. He pointed to the lowermost layer of the pizza. "The crust is bread. It tastes somewhat different from Asgardian breads, but it is quite pleasant. Next, the pizza sauce. We have nothing like it on Asgard, and it is delectable. It is made from a Midgardian fruit called a tomato—a truly strange fruit; personally, I find it tastes far more like a vegetable. Then comes melted cheese—you know what that is. And finally, slices of sausage called pepperoni, which is made from cow and pig meat."

"This is the most haphazard jumble of ingredients I have ever seen."

"Many Midgardian foods are like that. Ingredients you would never think of putting together coming together in perfect harmony. Much like this pizza." Thor took a generous bite of his slice with a hum.

But it was only after Thor had devoured three whole slices, making various sounds of enjoyment all the while, that Loki finally picked up a slice from his own box. After examining it closely for several seconds, he took one ludicrously small, gingerly bite. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, and then took another, bigger, bite. And then another bite, bigger still. And in no time at all, the entire slice had vanished. Loki had not even noticed Thor was watching him with the biggest grin on his face.

"How do you find the fare, Brother?" Thor asked, feeling strangely overjoyed at seeing Loki eat.

"It is acceptable," Loki replied, already picking up a second slice.

"Aha!" Thor exclaimed in triumph. "I knew you would like it! But next, you must try Pop-Tarts and Lucky Charms. They are even better than pizza, Brother!"

"Do not call me that," Loki said.

Thor blinked, taken aback, but just slightly. "What? My brother?"

"Yes."

Thor smirked. "Should I call you my sister, then? Those are the only two options I am allotting you, so choose wisely."

Of course, Loki did not reply and continued eating in silence, but Thor had a feeling he would not protest Thor's calling him brother anytime soon anymore.

"I have brought us some beer," Thor said, after a pause. He used the edge of the brick parapet to pop off the cap of Loki's beer bottle, and then extended the bottle to the unwilling son of Odin.

After a moment of deliberation, Loki accepted the bottle and took a small sip. Then he made a face, clearly not impressed. "It is like water," he said accusingly.

Thor shrugged, popping the cap off his own bottle. "It may not compare to Asgardian brews, but it is still ale, so one cannot complain too much."

The balcony door opened behind them, and Thor turned to see who it was. Jane smiled at him from the doorway, and he beamed back, instantly overwhelmed by the sight of her.

"Darcy and I are going to bed now, and I just wanted to wish you two good night before we disappeared," Jane said.

Covering the distance from the parapet to the doorway in two long strides, Thor embraced Jane's tiny, warm form in his arms. "Sleep well, my love. May your dreams be like vast rivers that carry you gently into fantastic new lands."

"Aw, you, too, Sweetheart," Jane said, her breath warm against Thor's chest.

Thor placed a soft kiss on the top of Jane's head, and they parted reluctantly.

"Good night, Loki," Jane said to the withdrawn Asgardian's leather-clad back.

Loki did not turn around, but nodded his head once in recognition.

Lady Darcy's dog-tired face suddenly appeared behind Jane's in the doorway, and she rested her chin on Jane's shoulder, looking like she was about to fall asleep there and then. "Good night, Thunder Wonder," she said to Thor through a yawn. "Oh, and tell your bro he's a big bag of frostbitten dicks, will ya?"

"_Good night_, Darcy," Thor said pointedly, smiling at the girl he often did not understand, but whom he had come to care for like a sister over the past six months.

As Jane helped a stumbling Darcy back inside the apartment, Thor returned to Loki's side at the parapet. His brother was now about halfway through his box of pizza, same as Thor.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to talk about why you are here," Thor suggested, picking up another slice. "Do you know who put the price on your head?"

Loki's shoulders twitched in what might have been a hollow laugh. "Do you really believe me so incompetent as to not know who and when is trying to kill me?"

"Enlighten me, then. Who is this being?"

"Someone far more dangerous than I."

Thor should have known this would not be easy. Of all the enemies of Asgard, at least of those left alive, it was impossible to think of one more dangerous, more powerful than Loki. Unless . . . . "You lied to me, Brother," Thor said. "There was a king who ruled you, whom you answered to when you waged war on Midgard, was there not?"

"Ooh, how uncharacteristically clever of you, son of Odin," Loki drawled. "Yes, there was one such being. But he is no king. Not yet."

"And what did this creature want from you so badly that he gave you a scepter of power and an army in return?"

"And now, a disappointment. Surely if you think hard enough, you will arrive at the answer. Just be careful not to pull a brain muscle."

"The Tesseract," Thor said, the answer coming to him all at once.

Loki nodded. "Very good."

"And since you failed to acquire it, you must pay the price with your life."

Loki's silence was more than telling that Thor had hit the nail on the head. But there was a shadow of something unusual on Loki's face, something Thor did not see his brother experience very often: apprehension.

"Do not fear, Brother," Thor said, then, reaching out a hand, touched his fingers lightly to Loki's shoulder. "Without the Tesseract, he cannot get to you. And as long as Asgard's walls stand and there is a king on its throne, he will not get the Tesseract."

Loki lifted his downturned face, and, for the first time that night, looked Thor dead in the eyes. But there was no mischief or mirth in his expression, but an uncharacteristic severity that unsettled Thor to the core of his being. Loki gripped Thor's forearm. "Thanos seeks all the Infinity Stones," he said, "and when he finds them, which he will, there will not be a place in this universe where you, nor I, nor the Allfather himself will be able to hide."

"Thanos?" Thor repeated thoughtfully. "I have not heard of him. He is not from the nine realms, is he?"

But Loki was not listening. Letting go of Thor's arm, he turned his eyes up to the stars once again. "And to think I could have provided such a place, had you and your comically costumed friends not gotten in my way."

Confused, Thor dropped his hand from Loki's shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Loki turned to Thor with a sneer. "Oh, the irony is truly fantastic, Brother. Had I been successful in providing Thanos with the Tesseract, he would have considered me an ally, and were Midgard under my rule now, he would spare it. But now, I am certain he sees the planet as a direct threat. So how does it feel, Brother, knowing that thanks to the efforts of you and the Avengers, your precious Earth now faces a threat greater than anything it has ever faced before?"

Thor shook his head. "In all the time you have spent on Midgard, have you learned nothing of humanity? No human being would choose servitude, be it in safety, over freedom, be it in the line of fire. Such is human nature."

"Yes, and instead, humanity has chosen certain death."

"That remains to be seen. The Infinity Stones are well protected, and Thanos has yet to get his hands on one, has he not?"

Loki shut his eyes, and, for a long moment, said nothing. Then, without opening his eyes, he said, "You were right not to trust me, Brother."

Thor, who was in the process of carrying his last pizza slice to his mouth, lowered the pizza back over the box. "Why is that?"

"Thanos has the Aether."

Thor's pizza dropped out of his hand, as his whole body tensed with building fury. "How can he possibly have the Aether, Brother?"

Loki's eyes shot open then, dark blue in the starlight, and so cold and alien, Thor felt like he did not recognize his brother anymore. "I gave it to him," the fiend said simply.

In a motion like lightning, Thor had one hand clasped firmly around Loki's neck, and the other held out toward the balcony door, ready to summon Mjölnir at any moment. But Loki showed no intention of fighting, and merely held up his hands in surrender. "How could you?" Thor growled at him through gritted teeth.

"It was the only—It was the only way—" Loki choked, and Thor had to loosen his grip on his windpipe before he could continue. After taking several breaths, Loki tried again. "It was the only way I could think of to keep Asgard safe. I could not give him the Tesseract—it would have been suspicious for me as the Allfather to send it out of Asgard—so I gave him the Aether instead. He would have come for it anyway, and he would have left Asgard in ruin. I thought he would take my giving him the Aether as a sign that our alliance was still in effect, and that he would promise he would spare Asgard like he once promised to spare Earth. I was wrong. He took the Aether, he learned who I was, who _Odin_ was, and in return he put a price on my head."

Thor could not believe the words that had just come out of Loki's mouth. "You are a child, Brother, and a fool," he said. "Did you really believe Thanos would just resurrect your alliance?"

Loki cast his gaze downward, and from the guilt on his face, Thor could tell he truly had believed he had had no other options.

Thor let go of Loki's neck, forcefully shoving him a step back as he did so. "Does our father know?" he asked, quickly trying to think what consequences Loki's actions had possibly created for the universe.

"Of course," Loki growled, rubbing his neck. "Do you really think he would _not_ have gotten this information out of me before sending me on my merry way?"

Shoving his pizza box out of the way, Thor rested his elbows down on the parapet and cradled his head in his hands. "You should not have come here. You know full well what Thanos can do with the Aether alone."

"And here I thought you would appreciate the warning."

"I am afraid your warning will not do much good, Brother. You do not know what this world has been through in recent times."

"You speak of the downfall of the S.H.I.E.L.D. organization, do you not?"

Mildly surprised, Thor lifted his head from his hands and looked at Loki. "Yes. How do you know of that?"

"You forget I was the king of Asgard. Perhaps the Allfather asked a certain gatekeeper of his to keep an eye on his son and on Midgard in general."

"Then you should know that Midgard is defenseless. Those people and resources that made it possible to defeat you and the Chitauri a year ago, they are now gone. And now, Thanos. Humanity would not even see him coming."

"Perhaps that is something I will be able to help with. Your woman, she practices what Midgardians call science, does she not?"

"Her name is Jane, Loki. And yes, and she is very good at it. Though it is only thanks to Tony—you likely remember him better as the Man of Iron—that she and Erik still receive compensation for their work. Lady Darcy, too. Why do you ask?"

"Because I believe that with her help, and perhaps with Erik's, I could devise a way to track the arrival of the Aether or the Tesseract anywhere on this planet."

Thor stood up straight, his full attention on what Loki was saying now. "What you speak of is impossible. Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. could track the Tesseract's movements."

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s knowledge of the Tesseract was laughingly limited. I had the Tesseract's power surge through my body. Its magical signature is part of me now, and I could identify it anywhere. It is possible your wo—Jane and I could construct a tracking device and tune it to this specific signature. The same goes for the Aether."

"Because it was part of Jane, and she now carries its magical signature," Thor inferred.

"Yes. She should."

"If you can do this, Brother, it will give this world a fighting chance. I shall discuss it with Jane tomorrow."

Loki nodded once. He then picked up the last slice of pizza from his box. "This Tony, the Man of Iron, Heimdall told me he has taken planetary security upon himself after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collapse?"

"He and Lady Maria, Director Fury's second-in-command," Thor answered, picking up his own only remaining slice.

Loki nodded again. "And will you tell them I am here? Will you tell anyone?"

"When the time is right, yes. But for now, they do not need to know."

The two brothers finished their pizza and beer in silence, and Thor felt the tension that had built up in his body over the course of his conversation with Loki begin to dissipate. In fact, he was feeling quite groggy. Loki, however, showed no sign of drowsiness. And Thor realized why.

"It is day now on Asgard, is it not?" he asked.

"Yes," Loki answered.

Thor nodded, then yawned. "Forgive me, Brother, but I must retire to bed now, lest I fall asleep out here on the balcony with you. When you are ready to retire, ours is the room closest to the bathing room." He grinned at Loki suddenly, as a memory struck him. "We will be sharing quarters, Brother! Just as we did when we were children!"

"How very amusing," Loki deadpanned, in the manner of one not amused at all.

Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder anyway. "Good night, my friend. May your sleep be as deep and peaceful as Odinsleep." Picking up the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles, he proceeded back inside the apartment, but then paused in the doorway. "Loki?" he said, looking back.

"Mm?" the lone Jotun answered, turning around.

"You spared Father's life, and he spared yours. You said it was because you could not think clearly and lacked resolve, and he said it was compensation for your helping defeat the Dark Elves. But that cannot be all, can it?"

"I know not of what you speak," Loki said, looking bored.

Thor sighed, although he was not surprised by Loki's reluctance to go deeper into the matter. "How could you think clearly when Mother had died not two days ago? And how could you resolve to kill our father when you knew it would have broken her heart? And how could Father kill you when he swore to Mother he would not? How could either of you harm one another when you knew having the other's blood on your hands would have killed her?"

"You know very well how deeply I cared for Frigga," Loki snapped "What point are you trying to make by pouring salt on this old wound?"

That was a good question, because Thor was not quite sure of the answer himself. Mostly, it had been a train of thought he needed to get out. He shrugged. "I suppose my point is that you remind me of Father sometimes, and vice versa. You and he have many things in common, such as your love for Mother."

Looking disgusted, Loki turned away from his brother. "Go to bed, Thor, before this conversation turns sour."

Thor nodded. He had had a feeling Loki would not take being compared to their father well, no matter how true the comparisons were. "Good night," he said again, and when he left the balcony, he was surprised to find he felt closer to his brother now than he had in several years.

* * *

**Well, hopefully that makes up for last chapter, because there's nothing cuter than Thor and Loki balcony-boding over pizza, right?! Let me know what you guys think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five, yay! As always, thanks for all the faves, follows, and reviews. :)**

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It had been several hours since Loki had been left alone out on the balcony, and the Asgardian god was seriously reconsidering his decision to come to Midgard. Not that it wasn't the best decision he could have possibly made, because all things considered, it was. If Thor's woman was as good at Midgardian magic as Thor had said she was, and if she could help him construct a device that could track the Aether and the Tesseract's movements on Midgard, then the oaf he had the misfortune to call his brother was right, Midgard did have a fighting chance against Thanos. But more importantly, so did Loki.

And he had prepared for cold shoulders, mistrust, and even all-out animosity when he had chosen to come here. What he had not prepared for, however, was the likes of Darcy Lewis. That loudmouthed mortal wench, who said exactly what she was thinking exactly when she was thinking it, had managed to see through his every move since his arrival here, and that disconcerted him, to say the least. She showed no respect for him, and more surprisingly, no fear. But thankfully, Loki could already think of ways to remedy that.

He was called out of his scheming by the sounds of activity within the apartment. A door opening and closing, followed by the sound of footsteps across the kitchen floor. Didn't sound like Thor's usual stomping, nor Thor's woman's quick, light step, and nothing had been knocked over, which suggested it wasn't the loudmouthed one, either. These particular footfalls were slow and shuffling, and even before the balcony door was opened, Loki knew who would be paying him a visit tonight.

"Good evening, Erik," Loki said, without turning around.

The footfalls came to an abrupt stop, and Loki smirked to himself, knowing he had achieved the effect he had desired on the scientist.

"Do not worry, I cannot still read your mind," Loki continued. He turned around and faced Erik. "Probably," he added, with a sly grin.

Erik, white faced and wide eyed, did not move or say anything.

Loki sighed. "What is it you want, old man? Either speak or quit wasting my time."

"Is it true—" Erik began, in a barely audible mumble.

Loki cut him off then and there. "Speak up. Or has your tongue gone along with your sanity?"

Erik's eyes narrowed, and he appeared to gain some composure. "It's rude to interrupt, boy," he said, his voice much steadier now. "Or have your parents not taught you any manners?"

"Ooh, the worm has teeth," Loki said, honestly impressed with Erik's bold comeback. "What is it you were saying, then?"

"Is it true you risked your life protecting Jane on that alien planet? That you almost died saving her? When she told me, I didn't believe her."

Erik's unprecedented interest in the particularities of Loki's actions on Svartalfheim took Loki by surprise. "Jane didn't lie," he said, wondering if the old man was up to something. "She was weak and defenseless, so I provided protection."

"But why? Why risk your life for her? No offense, but you and heroism don't really go together in my mind."

Loki chuckled darkly. "A wise observation, Doctor. But make no mistake, I harbor no special fondness for Jane, either. I consider her an ally, that is true, but beyond that, she means no more to me than any other mortal. But on Svartalfheim, she was more than an ally—she was a responsibility. Her fate depended purely on the execution of mine and Thor's plan—at times, her life was quite literally in our hands—and although this may surprise you, I fully accept all responsibilities that accompany a position of power."

Erik nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said.

It had been so long since Loki had had those two words spoken to him, he was momentarily taken aback. "What?" he snapped.

The unintentional edge in his tone visibly startled Erik. "Thank you?" the scientist repeated, now watching the mischief god with a shadow of wariness on his face. "For what you did for Jane? We all owe you, you know."

"You don't owe me anything."

"And yet here you are, living under our roof."

Loki smirked. "Yes? I thought you let me stay because you like me?"

"Yes, as much as I like insomnia and amnesia," Erik muttered under his breath. "There wouldn't happen to be a magical remedy for all these side effects, would there?"

"There is an herb."

"Oh? Where can I get it?"

"Vanaheim."

"Oh. That's great."

"Anything else I can do for you?" Loki asked with mock sincerity.

"Yeah. Don't try playing games with my family. They'd win. Good night."

Loki watched Erik's retreating back with a raised eyebrow. Frankly, this had not been how he had expected their reunion to go, at all. He had expected cowering and sniveling from the scientist, instead of the straight-up questions and unfiltered honesty he had just received. Much like he had gotten from the loudmouthed one. And even from Thor's woman. These humans, so defiant in their mortality, talking down to him like he was their equal, or worse, something inferior. It was irritating. But at the same time, to one who had acted the role of ruthless king for so long, some brutal honesty was also refreshing. And in the case of the loudmouthed one, sometimes even amusing.

Loki yawned. If his internal clock was functioning correctly, then the sun had long since set even on Asgard. Finally ready to go to bed, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the door to the apartment.

But he had barely taken a step over the threshold when the very floor beneath his feet began to shake and vibrate. _FFFFFDRRRRRBRRRSHHHHHTTTTT_, he heard coming from the bathing room. He stopped dead in his tracks, genuinely terrified for a moment, until he realized Erik was merely running the shower. Shockingly, the loudmouthed one had spoken the truth—by Valhalla, Loki had not heard a sound like that since he had decapitated the possessed wolf-dragon of Muspelheim.

No, sleep would have to wait. Loki had a beast to battle.

* * *

**Apologies for no Loki/Darcy interaction yet again. Next chapter is when it really kicks off. *wiggles eyebrows in tantalizing manner***

**EDIT: Switched "taking" to "talking" in the fourth-to-last paragraph. Damned typos. -_-**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I don't know about you guys, but I think it's time we got back to our regularly scheduled Tasertricks. ;D**

* * *

Darcy awoke Sunday morning to the sound of even, rhythmic breathing at her side. Which was weird, considering she didn't share her bed with anyone. Oh, of course, she must've slept over at Ian's last night. Stretching, Darcy slowly opened her eyes and fumbled for her glasses on Ian's bedside table.

Regaining her ability to see, Darcy was surprised to find a poster of a galaxy taped to Ian's bedroom ceiling. Even more surprisingly, she was pretty sure this was the very galaxy that Jane had determined to be Thor's, the same one Jane had her own poster of, taped to her own bedroom ceiling—_Oh, fuck._ She wasn't at Ian's flat, she was in Jane's room. Because Thor was in her room. And all this because the three of them were now god-sitting Prince Loco, the universe's ultimate shit stirrer.

Darcy groaned, wondering of Loki had tried setting London on fire yet. She should warn Ian. Holy shit, _Ian_. Darcy sat up like a jack-in-the-box. She had had plans for a dinner date with Ian yesterday, but due to everything that had happened, the dinner had completely flown out of her brain. Forget dinner—she hadn't even _checked her phone_ since yesterday morning. Which was the first thing she set out to do now.

Somehow, her phone turned out to be under Jane's bed. Darcy did not remember putting it there, but then again, things in this apartment did tend to end up in the weirdest places completely of their own accord. The sound on the phone had been turned off, which explained why Darcy had missed all the phone calls that Ian had undoubtedly made when she didn't show up for their date. Dreading what she was about to find, Darcy pressed the home button on the phone. Yup, six missed calls, two voicemails, and eleven iMessages, all from Ian. Sliding open the iMessages notification, Darcy quickly composed a text: "Hey! Sooooooo sorry I missed dinner last night. :( :( :( But I've got a damn good excuse, trust me. How about lunch at ur place at noon, and I'll tell u all about it?" Confident this would tide over Ian's curiosity for the time being, Darcy slipped her cell phone into her shorts pocket and got out of bed. Lucky Charms beckoned.

Darcy's movement appeared to have roused Jane somewhat, and she stirred in her sleep, muttering, "Mmmh, Sweetheart, why do you always have to get up so early? Make me pancakes."

_That awkward moment when your relationship with your boss goes from sisterly to . . . something else_, Darcy thought to herself, then made a full-speed beeline for the bedroom door. Swinging it open, she ran face first into Thor's boulder-like chest.

"Oi! Darcy!" Thor said, surprise on his face.

Darcy, however, could only emit a small mewling sound and clutch at her nose, her eyes filling with tears all the while.

"Let me see," Thor said, moving Darcy's hands away from her face gently.

"Is it broken?" Darcy squeaked, sniffing.

"No, it does not appear to be," Thor said reassuringly. "Sorry about that." He patted Darcy on the head, as if that made it all better.

"That's okay, big guy," Darcy said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. "Was my fault, anyways. Should've looked where I was going."

"Yes, well," Thor said, and Darcy noticed something that sounded oddly like embarrassment in his voice. "I am wondering, are you up definitively, or are you planning to return to bed?"

"After _that_ wake-up call? I think I'm up for good, yeah."

Thor shifted awkwardly in his spot. "In that case, do you mind—would you mind terribly if I lied with Jane until she awoke?" And the God of Thunder was full-out blushing now.

Darcy grinned at him, which only seemed to add to his embarrassment. "Yeah, of course," she said. "But no hanky-panky—remember, I sleep in that bed, too, now, you know."

Thor must be getting better at understanding Darcy's colloquialisms, because the meaning of "hanky-panky" dawned on him almost immediately, and his face turned a shade of red so bright, it could give his cape a run for its money. "Do believe me, Lady Darcy, that that is not what I meant at all," he spluttered. "I merely wish to hold Lady Jane in my arms as she sleeps."

"Relax, Thunder Wonder," Darcy said, still grinning. "What Jane does with your hammer is none of my business, anyway."

Thor, looking positively mortified, muttered something incoherent and disappeared inside the bedroom.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Darcy let out the giant snort she had been holding back throughout the latter half of their conversation. _The day I crawl in bed with a guy just to cuddle will be the day my vagina falls out, seriously._ She also realized that she probably should've asked Thor if His Princelypants was still sleeping or if he was scheming in the semidarkness of his room or what, but then again, she guessed she'd find out soon enough, anyway. Besides, right now, she was mostly interested in breakfast.

Today, the kitchen looked something akin to a frat house on a Saturday morning. In addition to Jane and Thor's usual mess, there were now empty pizza boxes and beer bottles covering the tables, not to mention the large pile of Thor's clothes, both Midgardian and Asgardian, sitting in the middle of the floor, clearly having made it out of his old bedroom, but not quite into his new bedroom. Darcy couldn't care less about the mess, however. While she herself was an organized person and always cleaned up her own messes, when it came to cleaning up after others, she just couldn't be assed.

Weaving carefully through all the random crap littering the floor—because if anyone would find something to trip on, it would be her—Darcy made her way toward the kitchen cupboards, which housed the cereal reserves. Approaching Thor's clothes pile, she decided she would just kick through it, rather than make a lengthy and possibly treacherous detour around it. So, swinging hard, she brought her foot down into the midst of the pile. At which point her toes collided with a world of pain.

"_Holy mother of—!_" Darcy screeched, yanking her foot out of the clothes pile and nearly falling on her ass in the process. "_What in the—?_" Dumbfounded by what she could've possibly kicked that hurt so much, she began to rummage through the pile, and it wasn't long before the culprit was plain within her sight. "_Mew-mew,_" she seethed, her sapphire-blue eyes narrowing into snake slits as she glowered at the magical hammer. But she couldn't care less about her throbbing and possibly broken toes, nope. Sure, she was a strong believer in putting things in their proper places when not in use, but she wasn't gonna go telling a grown-ass god where to keep his hammer, right? Besides, it could've been worse. At least he hadn't left the hammer on top of the toilet with the lid closed this time, before leaving with Jane for the day (that had been one seriously bad day for Darcy and Erik).

Wincing in pain, Darcy gingerly stepped over Mjölnir and finally arrived at the kitchen cupboards. This was the cereal treasure trove. Here could be found Jane's Shreddies, Erik's Raisin Bran, and most importantly, Thor and Darcy's Lucky Charms. Picking up the Lucky Charms box and peering inside, Darcy was relieved to find there was still enough cereal left for one more portion. Her mood brightening instantly, she opened the dishes cupboard to get a bowl—_shit_. No bowls. Because all the bowls were—yup—in the giant mountain of dishes inside the sink. But Darcy couldn't care less—oh, fuck it, who was she kidding? When she didn't have a clean bowl from which to eat her cereal because Thor, Jane, and Erik hadn't done their dishes in like a week, things were not okay. Sure, Jane normally got around to doing her dishes. Eventually. And true, Erik would sometimes do all the dishes in the apartment in one go, but then again, he would also sometimes use four plates to eat one sandwich. And Thor was a prince who had lived in a court full of servants and handmaidens; before arriving here, he hadn't washed a single dish in his life. He was learning now, but so far, he had broken more dishes than he had actually cleaned. And as for Loki . . . . Well, Loki hadn't done much other than pace, brood, and glare since his arrival yesterday morning.

Long story short, Darcy knew she was the one stuck doing the dishes this morning.

But there was no way in hell she was gonna work through this mountain without at least some good music to keep her going. Her iPhone, containing her entire iTunes library, was already in her pocket, which meant she just needed to find some earphones and she'd be good to go. Remembering she had left a pair in the not-living room the other day, she set off to retrieve it, still limping slightly.

The earphones turned out to be _inside_ the living-room sofa. Darcy did not question this. Placing the buds in her ears and plugging the jack into her phone, she returned to the kitchen.

Coming to a stop in front of the kitchen sink, Darcy scrolled through her music in search of the ultimate get-pumped-for-dishwashing song. Her thumb hovered over Britney Spears' "Work Bitch". _Eh, that'll work._

But it wasn't until she'd enjoyed performances by the Beatles, Johnny Cash, Mumford &amp; Sons, Arcade Fire, Tegan and Sara, and Florence and the Machine, all with her own vocal accompaniments, that the mountain of dishes in the sink was finally washed, dried, and put away. All that remained to be cleaned now was the sink itself. Smeared in and crusted over with week-old food remains, it was an intimidating sight to behold, but thankfully, doing the dishes had put Darcy into somewhat of a cleaning groove. So, with the finishing notes of "Kiss with a Fist" carrying her along, she doused the sink in dishwashing liquid, picked up a sponge, and got to scrubbing.

Having gone over the entire sink with the sponge once, Darcy now took a break from scrubbing to allow the more resilient filth to sit and soak a little. As she waited, her thoughts still drifting to Loki and, specifically, the moment he had first looked straight at her, an image flashed through her head, and all at once, she was remembering the dream she had had last night, a highly inappropriate dream involving Loki, Fandral, and Loki's bondage gear from yesterday. And before she could even hope to react to _that_ image, "S&amp;M" started playing on her iPhone. Like the phone had fucking read her mind. Darcy's eyes widened in surprise, and the next thing she knew, she was laughing uncontrollably. It was a release, she realized, after yesterday's stress and exhaustion, and there was no way in hell she wasn't going to enjoy it to the fullest. So, dancing (flailing) along, she rasped, sounding nothing at all like Rihanna, "'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it! Sex in the air—I don't care, I love the smell of it! Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me!" And then she wiggled her ass and did a sort of awkward half-pirouette that faced her away from the sink, and then she just about had a heart attack. "Jesus Christ!" she screeched, jumping literally about a foot backward.

Sitting across from her, at Jane and Erik's computer desk, was Loki. "Wrong deity," he remarked, without lifting his eyes from the notebook he was currently perusing, one of Jane's research journals, by the looks of it.

"_How long have you been sitting there?_" Darcy said, shock fading away to disbelief at her own obliviousness. _Who is this guy, a fucking cat?_

"Long enough to say definitively that you have a terrible singing voice," Loki replied, still not looking up at her.

"I'm assuming this means you're done with being Mr. Nice Guy?" Darcy asked. She wasn't insulted by what Loki had said. It would take far worse to make her resent her own person.

Loki didn't reply, and Darcy took this opportunity to study him. He looked different today. Gone were the leather-armor jacket and the black leather breastplate—he wore only his leather pants and a dark-green tunic. Bare feet. His eyes looked solid gray in the weak morning light. Oh, and he looked like he needed a double cheeseburger or two.

The silence was getting awkward, at least for Darcy. "You could've come help us move furniture yesterday, you know," she said, rubbing the still-aching muscles in her arms. "Done some jazz hands or whatever."

Loki licked his finger and flipped a page in Jane's journal deliberately.

Darcy sighed, deciding she didn't feel like getting ignored again today. "Okay, fine. Forget about yesterday. How about you help me scrub this sink, instead? You could do it with magic, couldn't you? Come on, _impress_ me, Loki of Asgard."

This time, Loki glanced at her briefly, but was soon engrossed in his reading again. "And why would I perform the duties of a servant?" he said, nevertheless.

Darcy blinked. Then, she blinked again, her eyebrows crawling upward to come to a stop high on her forehead. "_Excuse me?_ I'm a _servant_ to you?"

Loki lifted his face to her again, his expression that of innocent misunderstanding, and Darcy couldn't tell if it was genuine or if he was fucking with her. "Pardon me, but I was brought under the impression that you are Jane's handmaiden. Are you not?" he said, his voice all politeness now.

"What in the—?" Darcy began, confused out of her mind. "Why would you think—? _Ohhh._ Is it because I said I was Jane's _assistant_? Because I didn't mean like a personal assistant, I meant a _research_ assistant. I help Jane with her science and stuff. I even get paid now." Saying that last part out loud felt really good, Darcy had to admit. "Although it's kind of ironic, my job, considering my degree is in political science and _not_ astrophysics by any stretch of the imagination. But hey, a job is a job, can't really complain there."

Loki was nodding his head like he actually cared. "Political science? And what does one studied in political science normally expect to do for a living?"

"Oh, you know," Darcy said, with a nonchalant shrug. "End wars. _Start_ wars. Rule a small country. That sorta stuff."

"Clearly, a noble career choice, my lady," Loki said, though Darcy could tell by his slightly raised eyebrow that he wasn't buying her bullshit.

"Why, thank you!" she chirruped, smiling at the mischief god a little too enthusiastically.

One raised eyebrow was joined by another, and Loki inclined his head toward her once before going back to his reading.

Darcy turned around to continue scrubbing the sink, then gasped and whipped back around again. "Hey!" she barked at the alien prince, crossing her arms over her abdomen. "I don't believe you! You totally only asked me about political science so you could change the subject and wouldn't have to answer the question I asked you, didn't you?"

"And what question was that?" Loki asked, sounding completely bored now. He didn't look at her, either.

Darcy felt herself begin to fume on the inside. "Will you or will you not help me clean this sink?"

Loki looked up at her, his expression indifferent. Then, as unceremoniously as if it were the most mundane thing in the world, he waved his right hand sharply upward once, and then settled it down on the desktop. He looked at Darcy expectantly.

For a moment, Darcy didn't react. _That can't be all it took, can it?_ Then, she slowly turned her head toward the sink. And then she gaped. The sink was _clean_. Like, utterly, spotlessly, spick-and-span-ningly clean. She turned back to Loki, still gaping. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed.

"Are you impressed?" Loki asked, one corner of his mouth curving into a tiny smirk.

Darcy tried very hard to suppress a grin, and failed. "Yup, you did it this time. What was that, teleportation? Like, you can't just make something cease to exist, can you? It all has to go somewhere?"

"Yes, you are correct," Loki said, his smirk deepening. "It is magically impossible to destroy or create matter or energy."

Darcy's grin faded as Loki continued smirking at her. _He sure looks happy with himself for cleaning a sink_, she thought, suspicion beginning to form inside of her. "So, um," she began, already dreading what the answer would be, "where did all the crap from the sink go?"

Loki's lips split into an excited smile. "Ooh, I thought you'd never ask, Little Mortal." And then the fingers on his right hand, the one resting on the desktop, flicked downward, and Darcy felt it, _splosh_-ing onto the top of her head and slowly beginning to ooze down through her hair, everything that Loki had teleported out of the sink, water, soap suds, and soggy food particles included.

"You motherfucker," Darcy breathed, feeling the color seep from her face as she practically shook with fury.

Loki's eyes widened slightly at her choice of expletive, clearly not one in common use outside Earth, but other than that, he looked positively elated.

Shooting daggers at the trickster god, Darcy stomped past the computer desk, heading for the bathroom.

"Oh, fret not, mortal," she heard Loki call after her airily. "I can remove it from your hair just as easily."

"Fuck off," Darcy offered in reply, and slammed the bathroom door behind her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ian was staring at her like she had just said Satan himself was hanging out in the room with them. "Bloody hell, Darce, this isn't good," he finally managed.

"Ya think?" Darcy said, biting into the strawberry Pop-Tart that was part of her lunch at Ian's.

"I just can't believe Thor and Jane would let him stay with you guys. I mean, he just about destroyed New York City."

"Forget New York," Darcy mumbled through a mouthful of Pop-Tart. "Or did you miss the part where he put _crap in my hair_? Ain't nobody messes wit mah hur, brah."

Ian shook his head, still white in the face. "But I mean, is he _safe_? I know he helped save Dr. Foster and all, but I dunno, I still don't see how you can trust him."

"I _don't_," Darcy said. "But really, other than this morning's little prank, he actually hasn't done anything overly suspicious so far. Oh, and he fixed the shower."

"You mean it doesn't sound like a Nazgul making love to a jackhammer anymore?" Ian asked, disbelief plain on his face.

"Believe it or not. I don't know what he did, but it worked."

"Still . . . ." Ian continued. "I don't like him using his magic or powers or whatever on you, Darce."

"And you think I do?" Darcy asked, scoffing. "Now I have to think of some way to get back at him."

"_Get back_ at him?" Ian repeated, his already large eyes widening.

"Well, yeah," Darcy said. "Come on, Intern, I can't live with someone who thinks he can just mess with me whenever he wants without there being consequences. I mean sure, I'll probably get killed in the process, but whatever."

Ian's face turned even whiter than it had been before. "I don't get it, Darce, why not just move out?"

"And say goodbye to my spending money? Nooo, thank you! You know Jane doesn't charge me rent. Or groceries. Hell, she even lets me use her hair products and makeup!"

"Well, I can see _one_ possible solution to all this," Ian began, only to get interrupted by Darcy.

"Holy shit, Intern!" she exclaimed. "I just gave myself the perfect idea for how I can get back at the motherfucker!"

"Oh?" Ian asked, looking disappointed.

"Yeah! I'll totally let you know how it goes."

Ian now looked like a kicked puppy. "Sounds good . . . ."

Darcy smacked her lips. "You got any more Pop-Tarts?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

On her way home that night, Darcy Lewis, master schemer in her own right, stopped by the supermarket, where she purchased all but two items: a bottle of shampoo, and a large tube of superglue.

* * *

**Muahahahaha. *cough* Lokes better watch his ass.**


	7. Chapter 7

With the shampoo and superglue stowed safely away within the depths of her purse, Darcy walked home from the supermarket with a feeling of increasing excitement at the prospect of pulling a successful prank on the trickster god himself. But considering who she was dealing with, she knew her planning would have to be impeccable for her to have any chance of success, at all. And there were still certain issues to be resolved.

But by the honor of her beautiful, flowing locks, Darcy was well on her way in resolving them.

The first and perhaps the most important issue had been targeting. How could Darcy make sure that Loki and only Loki used her "special surprise" shampoo? But thankfully, she had found her answer inside the supermarket itself. After having wandered the hair-products aisle, having stared hopelessly at the shelving housing the men's generic, boring shampoos, she had dared a peek into the women's far more colorful, more expansive section. And that is when the answer had hit her—_color_. Loki was the only person living in their apartment with black hair. And sure enough, the supermarket had carried a line of color specific, color-boosting shampoos. Women's shampoos, true, but since everyone in the apartment already used Jane's girly shampoo, Darcy had figured Loki wouldn't think twice of it. And so, she had grabbed "Elegant Ebony" for His Princelypants, and then had continued on to the home-maintenance section.

But next came the issue of delivery. Darcy could not simply walk up to one likely expecting to be pranked by her and hand him a bottle of shampoo. Because that would be suspicious as shit. So, she would need to devise a way to introduce Loki to the shampoo without it seeming strange. A Trojan horse, perhaps? But surely the God of Mischief and Lies wouldn't be that easy to fool? So perhaps she would need to introduce a decoy, as well, something that would appear suspicious and would draw Loki's attention away from the shampoo.

_So_, Darcy realized, so far her plan consisted of making Loki actually expect a prank, making him believe the prank would be something it would, in fact, not be, and all the while, unbeknownst to him, setting him up for the real prank. These were dangerous waters she was treading, but thankfully, she had a feeling Loki would be too blinded by his own arrogance to believe her capable of coming up with a plan this complicated. Of course, she herself still didn't know what her Trojan horse or the decoy prank would be, so, for tonight, she resigned to simply preparing the "special" shampoo and then hiding it somewhere deep in her and Jane's room, until the time came. And until then, she would work on step one: acting how Loki would expect her to act if he believed she was planning on pulling a prank on him. And since she was pretty sure he would underestimate her and her pranking abilities, she decided she would act as any amateur prankster would act when trying to mislead the one she wished to get back at: like the original prank had been forgiven, and no grudges were being held.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was the day following the Incident, as Darcy had come to refer to it in her head, and she was, plainly and simply, insulted. She had performed her nice act flawlessly all morning, even going as far as making the dickhead coffee (decaf, of course—gods knew those Asgardians couldn't hold their caffeine), and just as she had planned, Loki had grown suspicious, sneering at her like he knew something, to which she had replied with her best innocent face. But as the day had continued on, and the rest of the apartment's inhabitants had emerged from their bedrooms, Darcy had realized that it was Thor Loki was suspicious of, not her. Which meant that he must think she had tattled on him to his brother-slash-guardian. Hence, the insult. Because nobody fought Darcy's battles other than Darcy herself. And Loki would soon learn this first hand.

To Darcy's relief, by the end of the day, after Thor hadn't done anything that would even remotely suggest that he knew about the Incident, Loki's suspicions had finally shifted from Thor to Darcy. As for Darcy herself, well, once Thor and Jane had filled her in on the whole Thanos-having-the-Aether-and-all-of-it-being-entirely-Loki's-fault situation, her desire to put glue in Loki's hair had increased exponentially.

Loki cornered her outside the bathroom that night, using his height to its full advantage to tower over her in what she assumed he thought was a menacing manner. "You're playing with fire, Little Mortal," he said, the smirk evident not on his lips, but in his eyes. "Careful you don't get burned." And that was it. After he walked away, Darcy went to bed feeling utterly satisfied with herself. Step one: complete.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The following morning, as had become their routine over the past two days, once Darcy had gotten out of bed, Thor immediately took her spot to enjoy the company of his beloved Jane. Darcy, meanwhile, went to the kitchen to enjoy the company of her beloved Lucky Charms. Opening the kitchen cupboards, however, she was in for a stark reminder that she had actually finished the last of the magically delicious cereal yesterday. Disappointed that she would now have to wait to indulge herself until the next time Thor and Jane went grocery shopping, she went to scavenge for her breakfast in the fridge, instead. And then it hit her. _Grocery shopping._ Her Trojan horse. If she could make it look like she was bringing Loki's shampoo home along with a bunch of groceries, then Loki might not suspect it, at all. But Darcy didn't normally go grocery shopping—Thor and Jane did. So were she to come home with a load of groceries completely out of the blue, Thor and Jane would be certain to ask questions. Now, Darcy was pretty positive they would buy any excuse she gave them, but Loki? Somehow, she didn't think so. And the shampoo, the only item among the groceries that would be targeted specifically at him, would still be more suspicious than not.

Her spirits dropping, Darcy realized that the only scenario in which Loki probably wouldn't suspect the shampoo at all would be one in which she bought something alongside it that would instill as much doubt in him _as_ the shampoo. Basically, she needed her decoy prank, and she needed it fast. _Come on, Darce, just think of something predictable Loki would see coming from a mile away._ Seriously, she had had less trouble coming up with the glue-in-the-shampoo-bottle prank, and that was her pièce de résistance. As she continued racking her brain for ideas, which, admittedly, was hard to do, as she hadn't had her morning coffee yet, her phone dinged. Taking it out of her shorts pocket, she found a text from Ian: "Hey, Darling. A bud of mine's picking up a pup from the pound today, thought you might wanna come along and see the dogs. I also heard they're doing a sort of doggy-food drive, if you wanna donate something. Anyways, let me know. I love you."

"Okay, random," Darcy said to herself, putting her phone back in her pocket. Didn't Ian know she wasn't into dogs? Or birds. Ugh, _especially_ not birds. Also, even if there was old dog food lying around the house for whatever reason, she'd probably try to feed it to Loki first.

_Oh, gods._

_Darcy Lewis, you're a genius._

She had it, she had her decoy prank. If she could somehow convince Loki that she was trying to feed him a can of dog food, this would probably draw his attention away from the shampoo altogether. Not to mention, dog food was something that could be easily bought at the supermarket.

Darcy thought fast. No one else was up yet, so now was the perfect time to slip out without getting asked questions. She just needed her purse, a change of clothes, and the shampoo. All of which were in her and Jane's room.

Opening the bedroom door stealthily, Darcy slipped inside. Both Thor and Jane appeared to be asleep, so she began quietly making her way across the room to the closet. On the floor beside it, she found her purse from two days ago, already containing her wallet and all the personal belongings she normally took with her when going out. From inside the closet, she hastily picked out an outfit—skinny jeans and a thigh-length button-down indigo shirt—and then, from an old Crocs shoebox at the very back of the closet, she took out Loki's Elegant Ebony shampoo, and immediately hid it inside her purse. Finally, carrying her purse and her outfit, she slipped out of the bedroom, her presence having gone entirely unnoticed.

She changed quickly in the bathroom, and then attacked her hair with a hairbrush. With no time to pick out shoes, she settled for her violently pink flip-flops. And then, just as she heard stirring coming from Thor and His Princelypants' room, she practically flew out the door.

She returned about an hour later, laden with three full grocery bags. Letting herself into the apartment, she carried the bags into the kitchen, where she found Thor, Jane, and Loki. The two lovebirds were crowding around the stove, cooking—if Darcy's nose knew its breakfast foods—buttermilk pancakes, while the sociopath sat at the computer desk—well, okay, it was more of a bar, really—typing some incomprehensible shit vigorously into the computer.

Darcy set the grocery bags and her purse down on the kitchen table, earning herself turned heads and confused expressions from both Jane and Thor.

"Darcy, are those . . . groceries?" Jane asked, looking at Darcy like she had just brought home a magical unicorn, rather than three plastic bags.

"Yeppers," Darcy replied. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Oh, yes, thank you—sorry," Jane spluttered. "It's just . . . kind of uncharacteristic of you, that's all."

"Well . . . yeah, I suppose," Darcy said, knowing full well Jane was right. "I just saw we were out of Lucky Charms this morning, and I was really craving some, so I decided to go to the supermarket to get some, and then I just ended up buying a whole bunch of other stuff."

"Oh, no need to explain yourself, Darce," Jane said, visibly fighting back a laugh. "Honestly, I wish you'd feel inspired to do this more often."

"No promises," Darcy said, treating Jane to a small smile. "But enough chitchat—come and see what I bought, guys!"

Thor and Jane stepped forward to crowd around the kitchen table, instead.

"So," Darcy said, taking three cereal boxes out of the first grocery bag and setting them down on the table, "I decided I better get more of all our cereal, so here's Lucky Charms, your Shreddies, Jane, and Erik's Raisin Bran." Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy noticed that Loki had stopped typing. He looked like he was reading over what he had just written, but Darcy was pretty sure he was listening to her, too. She continued taking items out of the grocery bag. "Then, I decided to stock up on all the essentials—so, frozen pizzas, ice cream, pancake mix, and of course, Pop-Tarts."

"'Essentials', Darcy?" Jane asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"_Yes,_" Darcy and Thor answered simultaneously.

Jane shook her head, defeated. "Please tell me that's not _all_ you bought?"

"Oh, no, I bought random things, too," Darcy said innocently, beginning to remove items from the second grocery bag. "Eggs, milk, bread, butter, cheese, toilet paper."

"Oh, thank God," Jane said.

"No, thank me," Darcy said. "Oh, _and_ I got shampoos for everyone." She removed the three remaining items from the second grocery bag. "Check it out, guys—they're designed to boost everyone's specific hair color."

Thor picked up one of the three shampoo bottles curiously. "'Bodacious Blonde'," he read from the label. He then grinned excitedly. "That is I!"

"Yep, that's for you and Erik, Thoréal," Darcy said, trying to hide her amusement at Thor's enthusiasm. She then picked up the second bottle and showed it to Jane. "And 'Beautiful Brunette' is for us, Boss Lady."

"Ooh, thank you, Darcy," Jane said, looking slightly flattered, and took the bottle from Darcy to have a closer look.

"Who is the third bottle for?" Thor asked, putting down Bodacious Blonde and picking up the only remaining bottle. "'Elegant Ebony'," he read, his eyebrows knitting together. "Is this for Loki?"

"Well, I couldn't just let him be the only one to not get his own special shampoo, Thor," Darcy said, mock sincerity thick in her voice. "I didn't think His Princelypants would take too kindly to that."

"It was thoughtful of you, and I thank you on his behalf," Thor said, looking highly amused by the title Darcy had bestowed upon the mischief god. He then turned to the trickster, saying, "Oi, Brother, Lady Darcy has purchased you soap for your hair. I expect you to give her your thanks."

Loki pretended not to hear, and resumed typing data into the desktop.

"Don't worry about it, Thunder Wonder," Darcy said, flashing Thor a big, hopefully-not-too-fake-looking smile. _Enough calling attention to the shampoo, now, please._

"So, what's in the third bag?" Jane asked, right on cue. "More Pop-Tarts and Lucky Charms?"

"Nope," Darcy replied, and started emptying the final bag onto the tabletop. "Here we have lean ground beef, kidney beans, onions, garlic, tomatoes, and most importantly, fresh green chile peppers."

"Darcy, is this—" Jane began.

"Just about everything you might need to make an authentic New Mexico chili con carne?" Darcy interrupted. "Yes. Let's just say Lucky Charms wasn't the only thing I was craving. I trust that we still have vegetable oil and all the necessary spices?"

"We should," Jane said, looking undeniably excited. "Can't wait for you to make it, Darce. It's been so long since we've had it."

Darcy grinned at her Boss Lady, knowing exactly how she felt. "I'll definitely try to make it sometime this week."

"What is 'chili con carne'?" Thor asked. He was staring at the pile of ingredients on the table, clearly not understanding how they could all fit together into food.

"You'll love it, Sweetheart, don't worry," Jane replied. "It's something we learned to cook in Puente Antiguo. Darcy definitely makes it best, though."

"Aw, you're too kind, Boo-Boo," Darcy said sweetly. "But also right. Anyway, I'm just gonna go put my purse in our room, and then I'll come back and help you guys put all this stuff away."

"Wait, what's that?" Jane asked, pointing at the bag that had contained the chili ingredients.

"What's what?" Darcy asked, feigning obliviousness.

"You left a can in the bag. Is it for the chili, too?"

Darcy stared at the bag in her best imitation of confusion, and then faked a perfect flustered realization. "What?" she said, very defensively, shooting a sidelong glance at Loki's back. She hoped he could see her expression in the reflection of his computer screen. "Of course it's not for the chili. It's, uh, dog food, actually." She took the can out of the bag and showed it to Jane.

"We do not have a dog, Darcy," Thor pointed out.

_I could argue that point_, Darcy thought to herself. "Well, obviously not," she said. "I'm donating it. Ian invited me to the dog shelter today, and they're doing a dog-food drive of some kind."

"Oh, that's very nice of you," Jane said. "But I thought you didn't like dogs?"

"Uh, just because I don't like them doesn't mean I won't help them out," Darcy said, trying to sound defensive again. "Jeez, Jane, I'm not some heartless monster."

"Oh, no, no, that's not what I was trying to say, at all!" Jane said immediately, looking embarrassed. "What you're doing is very kind. If everyone in the world thought the way you do, the world would be a better place. Really."

Darcy decided she could drop the defensiveness act now, for Jane's sake. "Oh, sorry, Jane. Didn't mean to flip out like that."

"It's okay," Jane said, smiling weakly. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's all right," Darcy said, then picked up her purse and the can of dog food. "I'll be right back." She went into her and Jane's room, shut the door behind her, and then grinned to herself triumphantly. That couldn't have gone any better. There was simply no way Loki didn't find the dog food more suspicious than the shampoo now. Darcy put down her purse, and then proceeded to hide the can in her underwear drawer. No need to hide it particularly well—if Loki came snooping and found it, it would only fuel his suspicion of it and draw his attention further away from the shampoo. She'd keep it hidden there, and then, after she had successfully pranked the asshole, she would donate it to the shelter.

All there was left to do now was to wait.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

And wait she did. For four fucking days.

It was Saturday, day six following the Incident, exactly one week since the reason they couldn't have nice things had arrived on their balcony, and Darcy was just about ready to strangle the dick. With each passing day that the Elegant Ebony shampoo had remained unused, Darcy had slowly grown to accept a truth that was more than obvious to her now: Loki, although Darcy was certain he also suspected the dog food in her underwear drawer, still suspected the shampoo, and would more than likely not stop suspecting it until she actually attempted to feed him some dog-food chili. Four days ago, this wouldn't have been a problem.

Four days ago, she had been resenting the idea that she had been cursed to spend every morning at the flat in the company of Loki and Loki alone. Loki had been waking up every morning around the same time as her and Thor, but then Thor would disappear to cuddle with Jane, leaving Darcy all alone with the broody Frost not-so-Giant-but-still-pretty-damn-tall.

But apparently, Loki had just been settling into London time, and after his internal clock had reset itself, his sleep cycle had come to resemble more that of Jane's, meaning he now woke up no earlier than 11:00 AM, just about the same time as Jane, Thor, and normally, Erik, got out bed. Darcy could only assume geniuses in general required more sleep.

Of course, initially she had been ecstatic about no longer having to spend awkward alone time with Thor's adopted evil brother, but now, when the very success of her prank depended on her being alone with him long enough to pretend to cook him dog-food chili, she wished it had taken his brain longer to adjust itself to the new time zone.

Now, she had no idea whether she should bide her time for the opportune moment, or just come up with a whole new decoy prank.

But it appeared not everything was meant to go to shit, because that very afternoon, she would receive her answer.

It was shortly after breakfast (lunch? Brunch?), and everyone was in the kitchen, working. (Okay, everyone except Thor. Thor wasn't working. Thor was playing Candy Crush on Darcy's iPhone.) Darcy had swallowed her comments of disapproval at the fact that she was being forced to work on a _Saturday_—apparently, this Infinity Stone tracking device was important or something—and was now busy typing some of the notes Jane had given her into her laptop. Jane had always preferred to write her thoughts, ideas, and equations out on paper, but unfortunately for Darcy, Loki wasn't overly fond of trying to decipher Jane's chicken scratch, which is why Darcy had been officially tasked with transferring any and all of Jane's relevant handwritten notes into digital form and then forwarding them to Loki's desktop. It was a painstakingly boring process, but Darcy was playing her part in protecting humanity or whatever.

About an hour of this, and then Jane, Loki, and Erik all looked at the desktop computer screen, sat back in their chairs, and said, "Huh."

"'Huh'?" Darcy repeated, looking up, her vision swimming from having stared too long at her own computer screen. "Was that a good huh or a bad huh?"

"I think we have it," Jane said.

Loki and Erik nodded.

"Have what?" Darcy asked, readjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

"I think if we go to him with _this_," Jane continued, "he's bound to approve it."

"_Who's_ bound to approve _what_?" Darcy tried once more.

"Be damned, vile creature!" Thor cried out suddenly from his spot across the kitchen table, throwing his arms up in rage at Darcy's iPhone.

Jane turned around immediately. "What happened, Sweetheart?"

Thor forcefully slid the phone across the table to Darcy. "Odus has fallen off the moon, thus robbing me of my last remaining life! Tell me, what is the point of his being an owl when he cannot fly to save himself?"

"Well, um," Jane began, then paused and scratched the back of her head. "I'm not sure, actually. But I _do_ have some good news for you."

"Yeah, okay, so Thor doesn't even need to _ask_ to be told what's up," Darcy huffed indignantly.

"What was that, Darce?" Jane asked.

"_Never_ _mind_," Darcy growled through gritted teeth. She saw Loki's blues land on her for a fraction of a second, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She scowled at him.

"What is your news, my love?" Thor asked, turning sideways in his chair, so he could give Jane his undivided attention.

"Well, I believe," Jane said, "and I think Loki and Erik will agree with me here, that we are ready to take this project in to be reviewed by Stark."

Darcy gaped. "What, legit? Because just yesterday you were complaining about us having no solid data and a just a half-written proposal."

Jane looked away sheepishly. "The proposal is fully written now . . . ."

"Okay, then what about the no-data part? Are we even close to converting the Eternity Rocks' magical-signature thingies into science terms yet?"

Jane sighed, looking down at the floor as she ran her fingers through her hair. "No. But we can't go forward with that until we get Tony's approval, and even better, get our hands on Project S.E.E.R."

"Who or what is this seer you speak of?" Loki asked.

"Oh, boy . . . ." Darcy said to herself. "Hold on to your butts, everyone . . . ."

"S.E.E.R., as in Surveyor of Extreme Electromagnetic Recurrences," Jane said, suddenly looking very excited. She pulled her huge, industrial-grade tablet toward her, and brought up a complicated-looking blueprint. "I came up with the name myself," she added.

"And what a coincidence that it spells out S.E.E.R.," Darcy said sarcastically.

"Is it a machine?" Loki asked, turning the tablet toward himself and beginning to study the diagram.

"Oh, it's more like Jane's baby," Darcy said.

Loki appeared slightly surprised by this, and turned to Jane with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Not an _actual_ baby," Jane said, with a flustered smile. "Darcy just calls it that because it was my first, and, well, now only, S.H.I.E.L.D. project. When Thor came back for good, he swore an oath to S.H.I.E.L.D. that he would protect humanity at all costs, and in return, he asked only that S.H.I.E.L.D. give Erik, Darcy, and I proper paying jobs. So Director Fury, may he rest in peace, put us at the forefront of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s newest project—practically handed it over to us, actually—telling Erik and I to design a machine that, when connected to the S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite network, could pinpoint the event of an opening Bifrost wormhole anywhere on this planet. It's the plans for this machine that you're looking at now, Loki."

"I helped, by the way," Darcy interjected. "With . . . coffee and stuff."

"Was the machine ever constructed?" Loki asked, studying the blueprint with increased interest now.

"Oh, yes," Erik said, with a warm smile directed at Jane. "It was even operational for three months, before S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed."

Jane flushed slightly. "Yeah, but it was a constant work in progress. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted us to make it better, more precise. They wanted it to be capable of instantaneous detection, which we just weren't getting."

"And what is the project's status now?" Loki asked.

"The project died along with S.H.I.E.L.D., but the S.E.E.R. machine itself survived the HYDRA attacks," Jane said. "Tony now has it in storage, but says it's nonoperational."

"But you believe it can be of use to us?"

"Absolutely. If we can get it up and running and get it reconnected to even some of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s satellites, we'll have access to surface energy readings from around the globe. Then it's just a matter of providing it with the criteria of what to actually search for."

"I see," Loki said. "And is there any chance the Man of Iron will _not_ grant you access to this machine?"

"Doubtful," Jane said. "If our proposal convinces him to fund this project instead of the Convergence aftermath research he's having Erik, Darcy, and I do now, I don't see why he wouldn't let us have it. Really, it's just a matter of getting him to approve the project."

"And I doubt we will have any trouble with that, my love," Thor said encouragingly. "Are you not due to deliver your monthly progress report to him next week? Perhaps then would be a good time to present your proposal, as well."

Jane froze, suddenly going white in the face. "Uh, Sweetheart, what's the date today?"

Thor shrugged, so Darcy quickly checked on her phone. "The tenth," she said.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. "_This_ week. The progress report was due _this_ week. I'm just gonna go call him right now and set everything up."

Taking her phone, Jane disappeared into the quiet of her and Darcy's bedroom, and the immediate silence that descended upon the living area was a true testament to her unparalleled equalizing abilities.

Jane reappeared a rather awkward ten minutes later. "He's cleared time out of his schedule to be able to see us tomorrow, all travel expenses paid," she said.

"Excellent!" Thor said.

Something clicked in Darcy's head. "Who's going?" she asked.

"Well, Erik and I have to go, since it's our Convergence research and our names on the proposal," Jane said. "And I believe Tony expects to see Thor, as well."

"As I him," Thor said, grinning excitedly.

"Loki obviously _won't_ be going," Jane continued. "And as for you, Darce, well, it's up to you. But I do remember how much you kicked it off with J.A.R.V.I.S. the last couple of times we went, so I'm assuming you'll be going this time, as well?"

While it was true that Darcy had somehow managed to become the best of friends with Tony Stark's artificially intelligent butler, and that the idea of getting to chill with him again was indeed very enticing, she nevertheless had her hair's honor to reclaim, and that took precedence. So, taking a page out of the playbook of lazy schoolchildren everywhere, she performed an elaborate reenactment of a sickly, wet cough, and said, "Ugh, Jane, to be honest, I've been feeling a little under the weather all day today. I think I should just stay home tomorrow and take it easy."

Jane looked absolutely horrified by the news, her mother hen nature coming through in spades. "Oh, Darcy, why didn't you say anything earlier? I wouldn't have made you work today if I knew you were feeling sick."

Darcy dismissed Jane's concerns with a wave of her hand. "Psh, it's all good. I'm not feeling _that_ sick, really."

Jane nodded, though her face showed she wasn't entirely convinced. "Are you sure about tomorrow, though? You won't come even if you're feeling better by morning?"

"Oh, if I'm feeling better, I'll definitely go," Darcy lied. "And if not, it's no big deal, really. I'm sure I'll get to hang out with J.A.R.V.I.S. some other time. Oh, and since I'll have nothing to do all day tomorrow, I can make chili in time for your guys' return, yay!"

Jane frowned, still looking genuinely upset by Darcy's not going. "Your body really chose the worst possible time to get sick, didn't it? Hopefully those chile peppers will give your immune system the kick in the pants it needs, then."

Darcy grinned, trying to ease Jane's worries. "Hopefully."

"I'll wake you up when my alarm goes off tomorrow, to see if you're feeling any better, okay?"

"Sounds good," Darcy said.

"All right, then you're done for the day, young lady," Jane said, furrowing her eyebrows at Darcy to showcase her disapproval. "Go get some rest, and no more working when you're sick, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Darcy said, snapping her laptop shut and getting up from the kitchen table. She then turned to Jane and saluted. "Have yourself a good day, ma'am." Then, her laptop and phone in tow, she set off toward the fortress of solitude that was the not-living room.

Tonight would be a night of peace and Netflix.

And tomorrow . . . tomorrow, there would be a reckoning.

* * *

**Okay, so this was like _the_ worst chapter to write for some reason. Which is probably why it took so long. But mostly it took so long because August is apparently the month when I have to do all the things ever. So please forgive my hiatus, and hopefully we can get this show back on the road.**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, when I posted the previous chapter, I was kind of hoping month-long waits between chapters wouldn't become a thing... which apparently meant that the thing would become two-month-long waits. *headdesk* I'm so sorry, guys, but for a while there I had absolutely zero motivation to work on this story. But it looks like the motivation's back, and I'm hoping it doesn't go away again. :)**

**P.S. Re: Continuity with the MCU. As of _Guardians of the Galaxy_, this fic is an AU. Seeing as it was revealed that *spoiler* the Collector _isn't _working with/for Thanos, my story no longer makes a whole lot of sense within the canon MCU. I was planning to mention this in the previous chapter update, but forgot. :P**

**Anyways, on with the show!**

* * *

Jane's alarm went off painfully early, even by Darcy's standards, so Darcy wasn't at all surprised when the Boss Lady immediately let it go to snooze. On any other day, Darcy would've been happy to let Jane laze around in bed for as long as she liked, but today, she had a trickster god to prank, so the sooner Jane, Thor, and Erik got out of the apartment, the better. So, pushing any and all consideration aside, Darcy shoved Jane in the back with her knee. Jane groaned and stirred slightly.

"Jane, wake up," Darcy said. "Something tells me Stark won't be too happy if you guys miss your flight to New York."

"What time is it?" Jane mumbled, her face half buried in her pillow.

Darcy picked her iPhone up from her bedside table and checked. "Seven thirty-two, Jane. That's what happens when you decide to make a round trip between two continents on a Sunday."

Jane groaned even louder, rolled onto her back, and rubbed her eyes. "Well, fuck," she declared, before finally sitting up in her spot on the bed.

Darcy raised her eyebrows at grumpy morning Jane's choice of vocabulary, while the latter yawned and stretched extensively. Next thing Darcy knew, Jane had plastered the back of her hand to Darcy's forehead.

"How're you feeling today, hon?" Jane asked, her brown doe eyes filling with concern.

_Oh, right, I'm supposed to be sick_, Darcy thought to herself, feeling rather stupid for forgetting. But it wasn't like it was too late to resume the act. So, with a long, wet sniff, "Not much better, I'm afraid," she told Jane.

Jane's face fell. "So you're staying home, then?"

Darcy nodded, forcing a cough.

Jane frowned, but from the resigned expression on her face, Darcy knew she wasn't going to argue. "Well, it doesn't feel like you have a fever," Jane said, removing her hand from Darcy's forehead. "Still, I'd recommend you take your temperature, just in case. And yeah, just take it easy today. I'm not too happy about leaving you alone with Loki, but traveling while sick would be worse. Or rather, probably be worse. Let's just hope he doesn't bother you too much."

"It's okay," Darcy said. "Think of it as me keeping an eye on him until you guys get back. And if he tries anything funny, well, my Taser's probably collected enough dust by now."

Jane made a face. "Careful, Darce. Physical confrontation might make him _like_ you. Also, you do remember you're not legally permitted to have that Taser in this country now that you're no longer a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, right?"

Darcy shrugged. "Until someone actually comes and confiscates it from me, it's mine."

Jane shook her head. "If you get arrested, I'm not testifying in favor of your innocence."

Darcy grinned. "Is it even possible to testify for my innocence?"

Jane smiled back. "At this point? Probably not."

Catching a second look of the time, Darcy shoved Jane in the butt with her foot. "Get up, lazy bum. You have a plane to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," Jane replied, but clambered out of bed, nonetheless.

After Jane had left the room, presumably to go wake Thor and Erik, Darcy pretended to fall back asleep. In reality, however, she remained fully awake, and kept both ears tuned to the sound of the activity happening in the rest of the apartment. She heard Erik and Thor get up, listened as everyone took showers, and then heard plates and cups clinking as the departing trio sat down for a quick breakfast. And it was about two hours after Jane's alarm had first gone off that she heard the bedroom door open and Jane's voice say her name.

"Mh?" Darcy said in response, pretending to be half asleep.

"Hey, sorry to wake you," Jane said, "but I just wanted to let you know we're leaving now."

"'K'," Darcy mumbled. "Say hi to Tony, Pepper, and J.A.R.V.I.S. for me."

"Of course," Jane replied. "See you tonight. Feel better."

Darcy heard the bedroom door close shut, then a final clamor in the living area as the trio double- and triple-checked the integrity of their baggage, and finally, the sound of the heavy apartment door closing with a thud, and the click of the deadbolt being pushed into the locked position. Darcy waited a couple more seconds, listening as three sets of footfalls retreated down the hallway outside the apartment, and, finally certain that she and Loki had been left unquestionably alone until the evening, she sprung up in bed. She checked the time on her phone. 9:27. This gave her roughly an hour and a half to prepare the chili before His Princelypants got up, and considering she was making the chili from scratch, she knew she needed every minute.

So, wasting no time, Darcy jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen, and got to cooking.

It was 10:54, and the kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of fresh, hot chili con carne, which Darcy was still stirring idly in its pan, over low heat. She noted with high satisfaction that, had she not cooked it herself, not even she would've been able to tell with certainty if the thick, brown, chunky stew might contain dog food or not. Which gave her high hopes that Loki would be even less certain.

It was at 10:56 that Loki finally gave some sign of life from within his and Thor's bedroom, as Darcy heard bedsprings creaking, like a heavy form was getting out of bed. Taking this as her cue, she turned off the stove completely, grabbed a bowl from the dishes cupboard, and started ladling in chili.

By the time Loki emerged from his bedroom, Darcy was sitting pretty at the kitchen table, her hands folded unthreateningly in her lap, facing the mischief god with a big, friendly smile on her face. Across the table from her, just where an empty chair stood waiting, sat the bowl of steaming, hot chili.

"Good morning!" Darcy said.

Loki, dressed in his leather pants and green tunic, as always, stopped and looked her up and down, before raising an eyebrow. "You look rather animated for one who claims to be ill," he remarked.

"Oh, I'm feeling much better, actually, thanks," Darcy said, still smiling. "Turned out I just needed a good night's sleep."

"Looks to me like you've done more than merely sleep this morning," Loki said, looking pointedly at the kitchen, still messy and cluttered after Darcy's cooking spree.

"Ooh, yes," Darcy said, "remember that chili I was talking about making yesterday?"

"No," Loki said, suddenly looking like he had become disinterested in the conversation.

"Oh," Darcy said, she herself trying to look as innocent as possible. "Well, I made us some for brunch and you should probably eat yours before it gets cold." She nodded at the bowl sitting across the table from her.

"I see," Loki said, coming over. "And may I inquire as to where your portion is?"

"Oh, I already ate mine," Darcy answered quickly, patting her belly for emphasis.

Loki eyed the chili uncertainly for a couple of seconds, and then, to Darcy's greatest surprise, sat down at the table. He picked up the spoon Darcy had provided him with and began prodding the chili. "What is in this, exactly?" he asked.

Darcy found herself too dumbfounded to answer, until she realized that saying nothing at all was probably making the situation worse. "Uh," she finally managed, "there's beans, chile peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and, um, beef." _Shit. He totally knows it's the shampoo._

Loki scooped up a spoonful of the chili and deliberately brought it up to his eye level, and Darcy could literally feel her ingenious plan crashing and burning in a miserable heap of epic fail. But then, with no warning at all, Loki let the spoon fall back in the bowl, the handle and everything. Sauce splashed onto the tabletop. Darcy couldn't help but jump slightly in total surprise.

Loki leaned back in his chair, the smuggest, most satisfied smirk twisting his mouth. "You disappoint me, Little Mortal," he announced. "And to think that I actually expected you to be more creative than this." He motioned at the chili. "But alas, you've proven yourself no brighter than the mortals I've already encountered. So let the dogs enjoy your cooking, but only the dogs." With that, Loki got up from the table, turned on his heel, and started walking away, triumphant.

It only took Darcy a couple of seconds to gather her wits again. "Wait, what?" she called after Loki's back, feigning shock. "I seriously have no idea what you're talking about." _AWW, YISS._

"Of course you don't," Loki answered, without turning around. He continued walking until he had reached the bathroom and disappeared inside.

Several seconds later, Darcy heard the shower running, and she couldn't help but grin until her face hurt. _Holy shit, Darce, I think you did it._ Loki had fallen for the chili hook, line, and sinker, and if Darcy's calculations were correct, he had absolutely no reason now not to trust the shampoo. Perhaps he would even use it now. Darcy got out of her chair and pulled Loki's chili bowl toward her, then fished out the spoon and replaced it with a clean one from the kitchen. Settling back down in her seat, she dug into the chili, with gusto—no need for perfectly good chili con carne to go to waste.

Darcy was surprised when she heard the shower shut off. The water had been running for all of five minutes, definitely not enough time to get any proper showering done. Now there was nothing but still silence, and Darcy felt the excitement she had been experiencing until now become quickly replaced with dread.

And then, suddenly, the bathroom door slammed open, with a bang loud enough to make Darcy jerk so hard, her chair slid, screeching, several inches back from the table. Loki stormed out at her, his blue-gray eyes dead as stone, his face whiter than paper, _gray_, almost, and before Darcy could even realize what she was doing, she had jumped out of her chair in utter terror, the chair tipping over beside her, and, acting on pure instinct, backed away until she had flattened herself against the refrigerator door.

Loki strode across the living room, around the kitchen table, around the chair lying on its side on the floor, his eyes locked with Darcy's, and she couldn't look away, even if she tried. When he was within two feet of her, Darcy looked away long enough to make a move toward the apartment door, but her progress was quickly hampered as Loki's long fingers, icy, wrapped themselves around her throat, not hard enough to choke her, but hard enough to keep her, incontestably, in place.

Loki leaned toward her, until his face was mere inches from hers. "You think you're funny, don't you, Little Mortal?" he breathed. His voice was barely above a whisper, and yet it sent the most uncomfortable shivers down Darcy's spine.

"I—I—" Darcy stammered, writhing rather unflatteringly in the alien god's grip. Oh, how this situation called for the use of her wonderful Taser. Although, now that she thought about it, there really was no reason for her to be in this situation, to begin with. Prank war or no prank war, Loki simply had no right to be manhandling her or pinning her against a wall right now. Anger stirred in the pit of her stomach like molten lava. Bracing both hands against the arm pinning her, "Let go of me," she said huskily.

Loki stared her in the eyes for several long moments, before finally doing as he had been told. Darcy shoved his arm away, and he took a step back, giving her breathing room. After having taken a couple seconds to calm her shit, Darcy was finally able to think clearly again. And more importantly, _see_ clearly. And the first thing her eyes glued themselves to was Loki's chest. His bare, wet, hairless, leanly sculpted chest. And then she realized Loki was wearing naught but a white towel wrapped around his slender waist. Feeling telltale heat flash across her skin, Darcy quickly brought her eyes back up to Loki's face, which is when she noticed something altogether abnormal. There was no glue in Loki's hair. In fact, his hair didn't even look like he had gotten it wet. Darcy just stood there, blinking, confused out of her mind, and then Loki's hair kind of . . . _flickered_.

_Oh, right_, Darcy thought, _master of illusions and disguises and blah blah blah_. "Dude, if you don't let me see the damage, I can't feel bad for what I've done," she said, not very remorsefully.

Loki let a long sigh escape his lips, before waving his hand in front of his face in a smooth motion. The illusion vanished in a flash of white-green light, and Darcy had to throw her hand over her mouth to stifle the huge snicker that immediately erupted from her throat. But the attempt to control herself proved futile, and she ended up dissolving into uncontrollable, manic laughter. Loki's hair was well and truly butchered. Or a good part of it, at least. Thick, white globs of glue adorned his coal-black locks in masses. His ends could now only be described as a mess of dangling hair clumps. And it was utterly horrible. And hilarious. And Darcy couldn't be more sadistically pleased with the result. All her work, paid off, and _how_.

Had she had it her way, she probably would've stood there and laughed for ten minutes straight. But she was feeling it again, that same raw power she had felt coming off Loki on the balcony when he had repaired the door with magic, and so she decided she better cease her giggling, lest she be turned into a toad. If Loki could even do that. Not wanting to find out the answer to _that_, Darcy finally quit her cackling, then rolled her eyes and said, "Dude, stop looking at me like that. You know you totally had it coming. Or have you never lost a prank war before?"

Loki's hands balled into fists, and Darcy could swear white-green light flashed between his fingers for a second.

"All right, all right!" she exclaimed, throwing up her own hands in surrender. "You're touchy about losing, I get it. I won't mention it again. Go magic the glue out of your hair, and I promise I won't prank you again."

"I can't," Loki said, his voice so low, Darcy barely heard him.

"What?" she asked automatically.

"I _can't_," Loki repeated, louder this time, and this time, Darcy heard his voice shake with restrained fury.

She swallowed. "Oh." _Oh. . . . OH. . . . Oh, fuck._ Suddenly, she understood what had set Loki off. _So, Loki can't get rid of the glue with just a wave of his hand. That's just great._ She hadn't considered this possibility, let alone prepared for it. But she could now definitely understand Loki's current state of mind. If someone had put glue in _her_ hair that she couldn't just get rid of with magic, she'd be out for blood, too. _However_, this now raised a number of questions. "Wait, what?" Darcy said. "Why not? You offered to take the crap out of _my_ hair when you pranked _me_, didn't you? Unless that was just a bluff and you're actually an even bigger dick than I thought."

"I did not lie to you, Miss Lewis," Loki said, his voice steadier now, presumably thanks to his realization that Darcy had underestimated her prank. "I could have easily shifted the mess from your hair, same as I had put it there."

"Then what gives?" Darcy asked. "How is this any different from what you did to me?"

Loki exhaled patiently. "You do not know the laws of magic, little Midgardian. When space-shifting an object . . . ." Loki trailed off, in response to Darcy's completely dumbfounded expression. "You call it teleportation, but in my realm, it is referred to as space-shifting, Miss Lewis. The point is, an object can only be space-shifted when it is being shifted as a whole. You cannot space-shift a part of an object. It just wouldn't work. Now, it appears that the glue that you so craftily tricked me into putting in my own hair is very much at one with my hair, so were I to attempt to space-shift the glue—"

"You would end up taking your hair with it," Darcy concluded, with a shudder.

"Precisely," Loki said. "Which thus begs the question, what am I to do about it? And what am I to do to _you_ as revenge?"

"Uh, how about _nothing_ . . . to that second part . . . yeah," Darcy said, side-eyeing the mischief god distrustfully. "And as for the first part, pff, we'll figure something out, no biggie."

"Really?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do grace me with your ideas, then."

"Well . . . uh . . . um . . . ." Darcy began, trying to think fast. "How about I take you to a barbershop? I'm sure they'd be able to cut away the glue clumps, without ruining your hair as a whole."

Loki scoffed. "Do you really expect me to present myself in public like this?"

"Good point. And if you were _recognized_, Jane would kill me, I'm sure."

"So? Any other ideas?"

"_I_ could cut your hair for you."

"Oh?"

_Shit_, Darcy thought to herself, _I really should've thought a little better about _that one_ before blurting it out. God damn it._ "Yeeeeaaah . . . ." she said, hoping her tone didn't completely betray her utter lack of conviction.

"Have you ever _cut hair_ before, Little Mortal?" Loki asked, looking skeptical.

_Well, there's no going back now. _"Yeah, I do it all the time." Once. Her own bangs. In high school. It had turned out awfully.

Loki appeared to consider this for a couple of moments. Then he shrugged. "All right."

Darcy cringed internally. _This is just great, Darce. Volunteer to cut the hair of a god and if you don't do a decent job, you'll probably die. Good going._ Nevertheless, she maintained her outside composure, and said, "Great. Bring a chair into the bathroom and I'll meet you there."

While Loki did as he had been told, Darcy went into the kitchen and procured a pair of scissors. Regretting this idea more and more with every passing moment, she proceeded toward the bathroom.

Loki had placed a kitchen chair facing the bathroom mirror. Darcy immediately judged this to be a bad idea—the last thing she needed was Loki _watching_ her as she failed miserably.

"No," she said, nodding at the chair. "Other way."

Loki lifted an eyebrow, but nevertheless complied and turned the chair around.

"Sit," Darcy said curtly.

Loki now raised both eyebrows at her, and the slightest of smirks was on his lips as he sat down.

Darcy put her scissors down on the vanity counter, then grabbed a towel from the bathroom linen closet and draped it over Loki's chest, shoulders, and around the back of his chair. Picking up the scissors again, Darcy found herself suddenly uncomfortable holding this potentially dangerous object. Not that she didn't trust herself using it. No, the problem was that she didn't trust Loki _being in the same room_ with it. Of course, by this point, that couldn't be helped. So, deciding there was nowhere to go from here but forward, Darcy began cutting the larger clumps of glue from Loki's hair.

"You know," she said, after a few minutes of this, "it actually isn't as bad as first glance would make you believe." Loki remained silent, so after a beat, Darcy continued. "It looks like you've managed to rinse the majority of the glue down to your ends before it solidified. Which means I won't have to take nearly as much of your hair as I initially thought. Couple of inches, max, I think."

Loki responded with a complete lack of reaction.

Frustrated, Darcy stopped cutting. "Hello? Aren't you happy?"

"_That_ I will let you know once you have _finished_."

Darcy sighed. "Okay, Jazz Hands, fair enough."

The haircut resumed in complete silence, but despite how much Darcy wanted to hate giving it, by the end, she had surprisingly gotten rather into it. Even more suprisingly, she was actually pretty damn pleased with the final result. Every last glob of glue had been removed, and yet Loki's hair didn't look half bad. Darcy now finished the job off with brush and hairdryer, making sure to work out any knots and kinks. Even after she had finished brushing and blow-drying, she continued working through Loki's hair with her fingers. She had to admit, his hair felt nice, far softer and smoother than Ian's wiry curls, that's for sure . . . .

"Are you quite done fondling my hair, woman?"

Jolted back to reality by the question, Darcy immediately dropped her hands to her sides. "I'm done. I mean, with your hair. I mean, _cutting it_."

"Good," Loki said, then, unwrapping the towel from around his shoulders, stood up and turned around to face the mirror.

Darcy found herself holding her breath, as she awaited his reaction.

"It is short," Loki observed finally.

Darcy exhaled, relieved. Seeing as Loki's hair was still so long that the ends just brushed his shoulders, the mischief god was clearly nitpicking, which meant he had no real issues with Darcy's work. Still, she managed a guilty smile at his reflection in the mirror. "Yeah, a little. But look on the bright side: Now you no longer look like Bono the drug-dealing hobo who lives down the street."

"How sweet," Loki said through bared teeth. His eyes then bore into Darcy's in their reflection. "You saved your skin this time, mortal. But try anything like this again, and I will not be so lenient."

Darcy scoffed in disbelief, holding Loki's steely gaze fearlessly. "Yeah, if you don't pull anything on me _first_."

Loki gritted his teeth, clearly displeased with this ultimatum. Darcy raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. "You have my word," the trickster said finally, and then, without another word, he left the bathroom.

As soon as Loki had disappeared, Darcy slumped against the vanity counter, suddenly overcome by the realization of how close she had come to being in real, big shit. Too close for comfort, that's for sure. But then she thought about that image of Loki, fuming, helpless, and with glue streaking his hair, and she couldn't help but think one thing: _So worth it._

Jane, Thor, and Erik came home at 2:42 AM that night. Darcy, having stayed up waiting for them, greeted them at the front door.

"Darcy?" Jane asked, looking surprised at the sight of her reasearch assistant. "What're you still doing up?"

"What, you expected me to go to bed before finding out how the trip went?" Darcy asked, with lighthearted disapproval.

"Do not worry, Darcy," Thor said, treating her to a warm smile as he walked past her with the luggage, "the trip went well."

"Like, _well_ well?" Darcy demanded. "Did Pepper and Regularman approve our proposal?"

"Oh, yes," Erik replied, with a grin. "Better yet, they want us to start on the work immediately. S.E.E.R. will be arriving to the UK by express post sometime tomorrow."

"They also say hi back, by the way," Jane added. "J.A.R.V.I.S., too."

"Oh, well, that's great!" Darcy exclaimed. "But, uh, they didn't get suspicious, did they? They believed the ideas were coming from just you and Erik and not some _outside_ source, right?"

"As far as I could tell, I don't think they suspected anything," Jane said, with a reassuring smile. "By the way, how're you feeling? Any better than you were feeling this morning?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, much better. I made chili."

"Oh, thank goodness. And ooh, can't wait to have some." Jane suddenly took a step closer to Darcy, lowering her voice. "And Loki, he didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Darcy said, with a satisfied smirk. "Didn't even have to bust out the ole Taser."

"Good," Jane said, placing a hand on Darcy's shoulder and squeezing it lightly. "I hate to say this, but we need him now more than ever."

Darcy made a face. "I know."

"Brother!" Thor thundered from across the living area, making Jane, Erik, and Darcy turn to the sound of his voice. The thunder god stood in front of the door to his bedroom, staring at the one he called Brother with something akin to shock on his face. Loki, clearly roused from evil slumber by the commotion of his flatmates coming home, stared back at him as a cat would stare at a dog attempting to climb a tree. "Your hair!" Thor elaborated finally.

"What about it?" Loki hissed.

"It is shorter!" Thor, Grand Master of Observation, remarked.

"And?" Loki demanded, his tone growing more icy by the second. "What if it is?"

Thor appeared to finally catch Loki's obvious resentment, and held up his hands in goodwill. "Oh, nothing! It's just . . . you look healthy! And youthful!"

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks, Brother," he said, in probably the least genuine manner Darcy had ever heard, and disappeared back into his bedroom.

Jane turned to Darcy, looking utterly confused. "Loki cut his hair?"

Darcy was just trying not to laugh out loud at the exchanged that had just occured. "Yeah, something like that . . . ."

* * *

***EDITED due to some disappearing italics.**

***Edited again due to _unnecessary_ italics this time. Srsly wtf is happening.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys! I'm back! And so soon?! :D**

**I bring breakfast shenanigans, Jane/Loki, and Loki contemplating the phenomenon that is Darcy Lewis. ;)**

* * *

"Loki, are you listening to me?"

The sound of his name brought his attention back to his work partner. Jane Foster, sitting beside him at the computer bar, looked at him expectantly.

"Of course, Miss Foster," Loki answered coolly. "You were saying that S.E.E.R. appears to be responding well to the search parameters we have given it to allow it to identify Tesseract-like radiation."

Foster blinked, clearly taken by surprise by Loki's perfect recital of what she had said just before inquiring if the god was listening. Loki raised an eyebrow at her smugly, before returning to the previous source of his attention: The loudmouthed one, as well as the old man and the oaf, were in the process of having breakfast at the kitchen table in front of him, and it was proving to be more entertaining than one would expect.

The trickster's own breakfast stood on the bar beside him. It was identical to Miss Foster's, as she had been gracious—no, _respectful_ enough to cook for the both of them that morning. It was a fried scramble of poultry eggs accompanied by four strips of fried, salted, fatty pig flesh, and Loki had to admit, of all the foods he had tried in his times spent on Midgard, this was by far the most agreeable to his palate.

Picking idly at his plate in an attempt to make the meal last longer, Loki watched his embarrassment of an adoptive brother heap brown goop onto a halved wheel of bread called a bagel from a jar labeled "Nutella". Loki did not know what Nutella was, but seeing as his brother clearly favored it, he suspected he would find it repulsive.

"These waffles are delicious!" announced the old man through a mouthful of pan-fried batter cake.

"Erik, you're eating a pancake," the loudmouthed one corrected. She herself was in the process of pouring herself a bowl of the sugary breakfast cereal known as Lucky Charms, one she appeared to worship as one would a deity. A few of the cereal pieces missed their mark and tumbled onto the table and then onto the area rug underneath, and the loudmouthed one bent to get them, unintentionally presenting Loki with an unobstructed view of her generous bosom.

_Her one redeeming quality_, Loki mused, trying hard not to smirk at his own brutishness. But oh, yes, there was no denying that the girl was beautiful. So bountifully adorned in all the right places, how could she _not_ be physically attractive to him? How unfortunate, however, that her personality left much to be desired. Even her name, Loki found, was ugly and crude. _Darcy Lewis._ He allowed it to echo around his mind, watching its owner as she sucked every last bit of milk from her spoon, her full lips moving in concentration, completely oblivious to how closely she was being watched.

"Oh, no," the scientist to Loki's right muttered suddenly.

Loki turned to her, about to ask what the problem was, but one look at the S.E.E.R. computer answered his question for him. The screen currently displayed a map of the world, as was one of its primary functions, but on the map appeared five pulsating red points, scattered across the globe. Atop the screen ran a repeating message: "POINTS OF INTEREST DISCOVERED".

"Either we did something wrong, or there are currently five Tesseracts on this planet," Jane said, making a face.

"Or perhaps it is a problem with your machine," Loki suggested coldly, not one to accept a simple explanation for any kind of failure without a grain of salt.

The scientist shook her head. "Impossible. The test run was successful, remember? S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radiation detectors are still in place and transmitting to the available satellites, and the satellites are transmitting to us. Unless you don't recall, S.E.E.R. was able to correctly identify New York as the location of Stark's clean-energy reactor in just under two hours."

"I do recall it," Loki answered, wondering why Foster so severely underestimated his memory. "However, it does not explain the issue we are currently experiencing."

"Unfortunately, the only other explanation is that our search parameters aren't specific enough. There are many science and technology facilities around the world that could be emitting the same specific mixture of radiation as the one we're looking for."

For a moment, Loki was speechless with disbelief. He then slowly placed his head in his hand, and said, "Perhaps you should have told me this _before_ we rose early and then waited for two hours for S.E.E.R. to complete its search, Miss Foster."

Jane's normally good-natured face hardened, and Loki realized that perhaps he may have come off as somewhat rude. "I didn't know the facilities _would_ emit our mixture, did I?" Jane asked defensively. "Besides, you yourself said that if we made the search parameters too specific, we would miss the Tesseract altogether."

_The mortal has a point_, Loki admitted to himself reluctantly. "All right, but _this_"—he motioned at the S.E.E.R. computer screen—"is of no use to us, either. We must make the search more specific." Loki looked down at the tablet Jane had lent him, currently showing Midgard's largest database of existing radionuclides, which, over the past two weeks, he had been carefully comparing to the Tesseract and its properties. "Molybdenum-99," he said, after several minutes of perusing the database.

"Is that what you would like me to add to the search parameters?" Jane asked.

"Yes."

"All right," Jane said, and began typing the new data into the computer, before giving S.E.E.R. the command to initiate a new search based on the new criteria. "Okay, done," she said.

Together, she and Loki watched as, one by one, the points of interest began to disappear. The last one lingered perhaps a second longer than the rest, before it, too, vanished into oblivion.

"I think that did it, I think we'll now be able to track the arrival of the Tesseract on Earth, _if_ it ever arrives," Jane said, leaning back in her chair. "I'll start preparing the report for Stark."

_Yes, Jane, that "did it"_, Loki thought to himself, far from satisfied. _Forget that we have not even began working on the Aether, or that it still takes two hours for S.E.E.R. to complete a search. A lot can happen in two hours. A planet can be destroyed in two hours._

At the kitchen table, breakfast was coming to an end as the old man finished off his pancakes and the loudmouthed one scraped her cereal bowl clean with her spoon. Only the oaf appeared to be hungry still, preparing himself another bagel, this one topped with creamed cheese.

"If no one objects, I will go use the shower now," said Erik Selvig, getting up from the table.

"Go ahead," the loudmouthed one said in response, watching the oaf with a curious expression meanwhile.

Selvig gathered the empty dishes from the table and deposited them in the kitchen sink, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Hey, Thunder Wonder," Darcy said, a mischievous fire playing in her eyes, "I bet you can't fit that whole bagel in your mouth."

If there was one thing Loki knew about his brother, it was that he never backed down from a challenge, even the most ridiculous one. _Gods, Thor, don't fall for this one._

But Thor was already looking at the loudmouthed one with hard-set determination on his face. "And what if I can?"

"Then you get my turn for choosing the movie for movie night. For two whole months."

Thor narrowed his sky-blue eyes in contemplation, but then held out his broad hand. "All right, Lady Darcy, I accept your challenge."

"Excellent," Darcy said, taking Thor's hand, a tiny smirk curving the corners of her mouth.

They shook on it, and Thor returned his attention to his bagel, currently cut in half with both halves covered by a considerable amount of creamed cheese.

"May I take the creamed cheese off?" Thor asked, looking like he was already regretting having accepted the challenge.

"Nope," Darcy said, her smirk becoming more defined.

Loki was beginning to find that the spectacle unfolding before him was becoming painful to watch.

Setting his jaw, Thor picked up the two bagel halves and stuck them together to form a whole. Then, as the loudmouthed one and the mischief god watched with undivided attention, he opened his great maw and laboriously stuffed the whole bagel in.

Darcy grinned and gave Thor a double thumbs-up. Thor returned the gesture.

_Moments like these make for a wonderful reminder of why I am truly happy not to be related to . . . that_, Loki thought, shaking his head.

Thor was now trying to get the bagel out of his mouth, which was looking like it was proving to be a brand-new challenge in and of itself. In fact, the wheel of bread appeared to be well and truly stuck between Thor's jaws. Rather than help, the loudmouthed one pulled out her little communication device and pointed it at the struggling idiot.

"Sorry, Thor, but I definitely gotta film this. For science."

It was not until Thor started full-on choking that Darcy finally put down her device. Getting up from the table, she went around to the back of Thor's chair and began pounding the oaf on his massive shoulders. Except, that did not appear to help.

Loki had seen his brother nearly die too many times for comfort. "Uh, Jane," he said, turning to his brother's paramour, "should we not . . . do something?"

Jane looked up from her typing for the first time since she had begun her report. "Hm? Oh. Nah. I say they got into this mess themselves, let them find a way out of it themselves."

"But . . . ." Loki began, before realizing that he and Jane were currently coming off as two parents watching over their misbehaving kids. Worse still, Loki was the _concerned_ parent in this scenario.

At the kitchen table, the fight for Thor's life reached its crescendo as Darcy grabbed a frying pan from the stove and brought it down full force against Thor's back. Finally, the bagel from Hel shot free of Thor's mouth, landing on the floor far across the room. Both Thor and Darcy heaved for air, before Thor slammed his fist down on the table triumphantly.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Darcy? I can fit just about anything in my mouth!"

And then it was Loki's turn to choke.

He was shocked to find Jane patting him on the back.

"You okay?" she asked, genuine kindness in her eyes.

Loki nodded, more than slightly surprised by such unexpected concern.

"Good," Jane said, and went back to her work.

"Jesus, Thunder Wonder," said Darcy Lewis with a snort, watching the video she had just filmed on her communication device. "This is _so_ going on Facebook."

Thor slumped in his chair and groaned, and Loki could not help but smirk slightly in amusement. _So Darcy Lewis is a trickster, same as I. Perhaps there is hope for the girl yet._

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**Well, I hope you guys liked that! As always, I look forward to hearing your feedback. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, lovelies. :) I come with an update, and this is a very special one, because it now makes this the longest fan fiction I have ever written (chapter wise). I couldn't have done with without your continuous feedback and support. You guys are awesome, and I love you. :')**

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Darcy knew no better cure for a rainy Sunday afternoon than video games. With Thor and Jane gone grocery shopping and Erik working privately in his bedroom, there really wasn't much opportunity for socialization, and so Wii it was, more specifically the ridiculously fun and outrageously adorable platform game known as _Kirby's Epic Yarn_. Sitting comfortably on the sofa in the not-living room, Darcy was having a blast collecting beads and fighting off baddies, until an uncomfortable prickling at the back of her neck alerted her to the fact that she was being watched.

By the time she looked up, Loki had already looked away. Darcy sighed. The creeper was home, of course, not that Darcy considered him to be an option as far conversation and regular human interaction was concerned. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading over the report he, Jane, and Erik had prepared for the briefing at Tony Stark's New York building tomorrow. But he had been looking at her just moments earlier. Darcy sighed again. They hadn't said two words to each other since the whole glue-in-the-shampoo-bottle incident, and Darcy had to admit, things had gotten kind of awkward between them. Well, more awkward than they had already been. And considering she and Loki were forced to be around each other on a daily basis, the awkwardness was seriously beginning to drive her nuts.

And gods knew Loki wouldn't take the first step in fixing . . . whatever this thing going between them was. So, shutting her eyes momentarily to compose herself for what she was about to do, she called out through the open living-room door, "Hey, Jazz Hands!"

Loki looked up at her with an expression of utter disgust. "Is that one going to stick, then?"

"Hey, if I'm Little Mortal, you're Jazz Hands, that's just the way it works," Darcy replied, with a casual shrug.

Loki looked about as amused as a little kid at the dentist. "What do you want, _Little Mortal_?"

"Just wanna know if you wanna play _Kirby_ with me. There's a two-player mode."

"What in the nine realms is a 'kirby'?"

"Well, why don't you come here and find out?"

After a long moment of consideration, Loki put down his report and got up from the table. He was dressed in—_yup, of course_—a green tunic and black leather pants (_seriously, can't Thor, like, _lend_ him some other clothes or something? Or he probably has and Loki just doesn't wear them, the stubborn dick_).

Once Loki had entered the not-living room, Darcy patted the sofa cushion beside her. "Sit."

Loki did as he had been told, and Darcy handed him a Wii controller. The trickster examined it closely, but did not appear to have the slightest idea as to what it did.

"So," Darcy began, "_Kirby_ is a video game. Or rather, it's a series of video games, all with the same main character: Kirby. The game I'm playing right now is called _Kirby's Epic Yarn_." Darcy nodded at the TV screen, where the cutesy round creature known as Kirby currently skipped a rope in lack of having anything better to do. "Basically, you use the remote I just gave you to make your little character walk, overcome obstacles, collect beads, and at the end of the last level of each land, there's a boss you have to fight." Darcy proceeded to demonstrate by using her remote to make Kirby walk around and then jump into the air to collect beads.

"Appears to me to be a mindless waste of time," Loki remarked.

"Oh, it is," Darcy said sincerely. "So, wanna play?"

Loki didn't answer, but Darcy could tell by his face that he was considering it.

"Or, you know," she said, shrugging again, "you can go back to being a mopey loner sitting all by yourself in the kitchen. You decide."

"Fine," Loki said. "I mean, it is not as if there are more productive things to be done with you."

"Nope," Darcy said, deciding to take this as a win even if it came along with what was clearly a thinly veiled insult. Returning her attention to the game, she ended her current session and opened the game's main menu. "I suppose I should go over what all the controller buttons do before we begin."

"Not necessary," Loki said. "I am sure I will be able to learn the rules of your silly mortal game as we play. I am a god, after all."

"Or you know, just an alien of a different species," Darcy said, rolling her eyes. "By the way, who do you wanna play as?" She pointed at the TV screen, from which the two playable characters currently waved happily. "You can either be Kirby or—"

"I am _not_ playing as the pink one," Loki snapped.

Darcy smirked. "Yeah, I figured you'd wanna be the grumpy-looking blue prince instead," she said, earning herself a scowl from Loki. "Prince Fluff you are, then." She started the game and selected two-player mode, but skipped the introductory backstory video, deciding that Loki deserved going into the game knowing as little about it as possible. She also completely skipped the first land, the walk-through, going straight into Grass Land, the second, slightly more complicated land. "All right, Fluff, here we go."

They began with the first level of Grass Land—Fountain Gardens—and to Darcy's greatest annoyance, Loki mastered the game controls almost immediately. Even more annoyingly, he appeared to have absolutely no interest in collecting beads, instead making Prince Fluff zoom through the level like a maniac and forcing Kirby to be carried after the prince against his volition.

"Jazz Hands, _slow down_," Darcy said, finally having had enough. "You do realize that gathering beads is, like, a _major_ point of this game, right?"

"I have no interest in collecting useless trinkets," Loki said. "Besides, you told me there would be something I could fight at the end."

Darcy sighed in exasperation, and just like that, the level was over. Their score was abysmal, not that it prevented them from continuing on to the next level.

"Look, Your Princelypants—you even look grumpy when you're doing your happy dance!" Darcy said, as Kirby and Prince Fluff celebrated their victory. "Oh, and by the way, when _Thor_ and I play, we make sure to collect literally _every_ bead. So you can suck it."

"I cannot care less about what my brother does and how he does it," Loki said, the irritation on his face disproving his words at the very time that he said them. "Attempting to draw comparisons between he and I will never achieve the desired effect. Only the opposite."

Apparently Loki wasn't kidding about that last part, because as soon as he and Darcy began level two, he sped off on his own again. But this time, Darcy was prepared. She set off in pursuit of Loki's character, and, as soon as she had caught up with him, made Kirby use his yarn whip to capture the prince and hold him in a ball of yarn on top of his head.

Loki began mashing buttons, which achieved absolutely nothing.

"What?" Darcy said cockily, now collecting beads with Loki on top of her head. "Can't run ahead now, can ya?"

"What is this witchcraft?" Loki mumbled under his breath, still pressing all the buttons on his Wii Remote pointlessly.

"Maybe you should've taken me up on my offer to go over the controls with you before we began," Darcy continued, in the same tone of voice. "Oh, wait, I forgot—you're a _god_, and _gods_ don't take lessons from mortals, am I right?"

"That's right," Loki answered through teeth gritted in concentration, as he continued trying to set his character free. "Make an effort not to forget it again."

"Stop embarrassing yourself, Your Ethereal Godliness," Darcy said, holding back a smirk. "Tell you what, you promise me that you'll stop running off on your own and will actually help me collect beads, and I'll let you go. But if not, then by all means, keep trying to free yourself. It's quite entertaining to watch."

"Then perhaps I shall stop entertaining you," Loki said, and put down his controller.

_Really?_ Darcy sighed, and then made Kirby release Prince Fluff. "Gee, Lokes, didn't think you were such a bad sport."

"And I did not think you would fall for that," Loki replied, then grabbed up his controller and made Prince Fluff speed away in the shape of a car.

"You son of a bitch!" Darcy exclaimed, launching herself into hot pursuit. And then she saw it, for a flash of a second: a smile on Loki's lips. But it wasn't malicious, or sadistic, or fake. Definitely mischievous, but genuine, and Darcy realized—_holy balls_—Loki was having _fun_. With _her_. Had she seriously just managed to set them on the road to recovery?

Thanks to her preexisting knowledge of the terrain and obstacles, it only took Darcy a second to catch up with Loki again, and just another second to catch him in a ball of yarn again. But this time, instead off carrying him around, she went and tossed him off the nearest precipice.

"Mortal!" Loki hissed, and there was that smile again.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Darcy cooed, pouting her lips. "Was that . . . inconvenient?"

Loki emitted a low growling sound from the back of his throat. "You better run, Little Mortal."

"Oh, shit," Darcy squeaked, making Kirby transform into a car and zoom away as fast as he could. Unfortunately, however, the game was designed in such a way that the two players could never be separated from each other, so wherever Darcy went, Loki was carried along, too.

It wasn't long before Darcy accidentally drove into a dead end, which was where Loki cornered her.

"A taste of your own medicine, perhaps?" he suggested, with disconcerting calmness.

"Bring it on," Darcy challenged icily.

They proceeded to engage in the most intense—and only—yarn-whip battle of Darcy's life. But with whips flying in all directions, neither of them could actually manage to grab a hold of the other. That is, until in a daring feat of acrobatics, Darcy leaped over Loki and then tied him up from behind in a surprise attack.

"Got ya, ya dickhead," Darcy said triumphantly, proceeding to throw Loki off the cliff they were currently on.

To her surprise, Loki grinned, muttering something to himself that definitely wasn't English and probably wasn't PG rated, either.

Out of nowhere, Darcy burst out laughing. And then it hit her—_she_ was having fun, with Loki, of all people. And then, in true Darcy fashion, she spoke, without thinking first: "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Loki's crystalline eyes darkened instantly. Slowly, he lowered his remote to the sofa. "Not anymore," he answered emotionlessly, before getting up from the sofa and walking out the door.

It took Darcy a full three seconds to make sense of what had just happened. The realization came all at once, accompanied by a tidal wave of guilt. Darcy sprung from the sofa and ran to the door. "Loki!" she called after the Asgardian's retreating back. "Loki, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like—" But it was too late—Loki had disappeared into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him lightly.

Darcy slumped against the doorframe of the not-living room, mentally kicking herself in the head. _Great going, moron. Just up and ruin whatever chance you had of repairing your relationship with the guy. Fucking genius. What's next, gonna make a joke about the fact that his biological parents abandoned him? Might as well go all out with 'Your father doesn't love you because you're a Jotun'. That'd make for quite the punchline, don't you think, Darce?_ Guilt flooding her relentlessly, she wondered if she should go talk to the latest victim of her verbal diarrhea, but then decided against it, judging it best to allow him some time before subjecting him once more to her awesomely inarticulate verbalizations. She turned around with a sigh, catching sight of the TV screen out of the corner of her eye. On it, Kirby and Prince Fluff were high-fiving for no reason whatsoever. _Well, if they can kiss and make up, then maybe the Lokester and I can, __too . . . ._

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**Next chapter promises to be a long 'un, so please forgive me in advance if the next update won't be for a while. ^^'**

***EDITED to correct a typo.**


	11. Chapter 11

**So sometime after finishing chapter ten of this fanfic I was watching an episode of _Spongebob_ and realized that my Darcy and Loki were basically Spongebob and Squidward. I don't know how to feel about this...**

**In other news, thanks a bunch to everyone who took their time to review during this hiatus (with a special thank you to _JokerAtWork_. Seriously, you're awesomesauce). It really helped keep my muse going during this busy period in my life. :)**

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If Darcy had thought that by dinnertime, Loki would have forgiven her for her earlier abysmally poor expression choice, she had been gravely mistaken. As the family sat down for a meal of spaghetti and meatballs, Loki remained in his bedroom, not having vacated it for four hours now.

"Is our resident megalomaniac not eating tonight?" Erik inquired, after having watched Thor roll one meatball around his plate for the past five minutes, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"I do not know," Thor replied, worry etching lines into his face. "He would not answer me when I called him to the table."

"You can always try asking him again," Jane suggested gently.

"Yes, that is a good idea," Thor said, before getting up from the table and walking across the living area to his and Loki's bedroom. Slowly, he opened the bedroom door. "Brother?" he asked, peering inside. But at that moment, the door slammed shut, very nearly hitting him in the face.

A surprised and uncertain silence descended over the living area, interrupted only by the sound of Darcy devouring her spaghetti and meatballs like her life depended on it.

"My, my," Erik said finally. "Didn't know Frost Giants have a time of the month."

"_Erik_," Jane hissed, as Thor returned to the table, frowning.

"He has not been himself since you and I returned from acquiring provisions, Jane," Thor said, sitting back down in his chair heavily. "Something had to have happened while we were gone to make him act like this."

Her face almost literally _in_ her plate as she ate, it was only thanks to her peripheral vision that Darcy could tell that three pairs of eyes had slowly turned and were now looking at her expectantly. But it wasn't until Jane had cleared her throat pointedly that she knew without a doubt that she'd been made.

"Okay, okay, I admit it, it was my fault!" she said, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Now can the three of you _please_ stop staring at me?"

"By the Allfather, Darcy," Thor said bewilderedly, "what did you do?"

"Well . . ." Darcy began, with an awkward, guilty laugh, ". . . it's not so much what I did as what I _said_ . . . ."

When she didn't continue, Thor raised his eyebrows at her.

Darcy cringed, knowing there was no escaping this now. "Loki and I were just playing around, having fun, and then . . . I may or may not not have made a bad mom joke on his behalf."

Thor looked utterly surprised by at least part of what Darcy had said.

Jane looked horrified. "_Darcy!_ That's terrible! How could you do something like that?"

"It was an accident!" Darcy cried in self-defense. "It just slipped out!"

"It always does," Jane huffed. "Did you at least apologize?"

"Yeah, like a thousand times already!" Darcy snapped. "But _Queen Elsa_ over there won't let it go!" She jerked her thumb back in the direction of Thor and Loki's bedroom.

"Who is this 'Queen Elsa' to whom you compare my brother?" Thor asked, perplexed.

"Uhhh," Darcy said, not quite sure how to go about answering this one. "She's from a movie. _Frozen._ You should get Loki to watch it with you sometime. I think the two of you would find it relevant to your interests."

To Darcy's surprise, Thor appeared to make a mental note of this, mumbling, "_Frozen,_" to himself quietly.

"Perhaps the boy just needs some time alone," Erik suggested, shrugging. "This wouldn't be the first time. Or has everyone forgotten that he spent practically his entire first day here alone out on the balcony?"

"I do not know, Erik," Thor said, looking worried again. "This time seems different."

"I think Erik's right, Sweetheart," Jane said, squeezing Thor's arm comfortingly. "I bet by the time we get back tomorrow, he'll be back to his same old friendly, approachable self."

This actually managed to procure a smile from the mighty Asgardian. "I suppose you two are right. Let us give him the night to feel better, then."

"Sounds like a plan," Jane said, with a nod.

And for a while after, Thor really did stop fussing over Loki. But then, at around nine o'clock in the evening, as Erik and Jane prepared for tomorrow's trip in their respective bedrooms, he approached Darcy in private, and Darcy could tell from his face alone that his apprehension had never truly left him.

"You okay, Thunder Wonder?" Darcy asked, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. "You look . . . overcast." _Always attempt humor when trying to eradicate a feeling of guilt._

"It is Loki, Darcy," Thor said, looking slightly guilty himself. "I know Jane and Erik said not to worry about him, but I cannot help it."

"It's all good, big guy," Darcy said, smiling in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "What's on your mind?"

Thor rubbed his arm uncertainly. "Not many people other than myself and my father know this, but Loki and our mother cared for each other more than they did for anyone else in the nine realms. She had always been the light in his darkness, even after New York. After she was gone, he was devastated. Her death broke him. I was there. I saw it. And now . . . . If he is . . . . I am afraid he is experiencing what he experienced the day that she died, and the last thing I want is for him to feel that pain again."

If anything could make Darcy feel even worse about what had happened than she already did, it was definitely this. "Oh, my God. Thor, I had no idea they were this close. I actually feel like a big ole pile of shit now . . . . Is there anything I can do to help make it better? Other than apologize for the twentieth time?"

"Unfortunately, I do not think there is anything we can do for him just yet, no. I think it will be best to give him his space and wait for him to come to one of us of his own volition, whenever he is ready. Having said that, however, I would very much prefer not to leave him completely alone in the dwelling tomorrow. If he _is_ ready to talk, I would like someone to be here to listen."

Darcy felt guilty for a whole different reason now. Not only was Loki more than likely going to go back to being an asshole because of her, but now she was also going to prevent Thor from visiting his friend. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, dude. I know how much you look forward to going to see Tony."

Thor shook his head. "Actually, Darcy, I was hoping you would be the one to stay."

Darcy blinked. "Me? I'd assume I'd be the last person Loki'd want to talk to, wouldn't you?"

Thor shook his head again, smiling. "Did you yourself not say that you and Loki were having an enjoyable time together earlier today?"

"Well . . . yes," Darcy stammered. "But I don't know, he was probably pretending or something . . . ."

Thor's smile grew wider. "Do not underestimate yourself, Darcy. Your personality—the very way that you are—I believe that if anybody is capable of drawing my brother out of his shell, it is you. If you are up for it, of course. I am in no way obligating you to stay. But you did ask if there is anything you can do to help, and I genuinely believe this is it."

It took Darcy a couple of moments to digest everything Thor had just said. She still wasn't sure she believed him, but if he honestly thought her staying with Loki would help, then stay she would. "All right," she said finally, "I'll stay. But if my staying somehow manages to make things worse, I officially forbid you from placing the blame on me, mmkay?"

The last thing Darcy had expected to get in response from Thor was a giant bear hug. (Not that Thor hugs were ever unappreciated.) "Thank you, Darcy," Thor said above her head somewhere. "I am honored to call you a true friend. Remember that."

"Don't get sentimental on me now, Thunder Wonder," Darcy said, unable to hold back a grin. "You know I'm not good at expressing all those raging feels inside of me."

"You are not the only one," Thor said, letting Darcy go and nodding in the direction of his and Loki's bedroom.

As he walked away, Darcy understood a little better.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Jane, Thor, and Erik's flight was scheduled to leave at seven o'clock in the morning. _Seven. Fucking. AM._ Jane's alarm went off at three, with the most ungodly sound Darcy had ever heard in her life. She startled awake from a strange nightmare the memory of which vanished immediately somewhere into her subconscious, though an image of a face remained, a face she hadn't thought about in years.

Jane pressed snooze on her phone as soon as she had located it by fumbling around for it blindly in the darkness—no surprise there. But Darcy stayed wide awake, her entire body abuzz with negative energy left over from seeing the face in her dream. At that moment, however, she became aware of a clanging and musical humming in a voice she recognized all too well coming from the direction of what she was pretty sure was the kitchen. "Oh, God, Jane," she said, shaking the little scientist by the shoulders. "Get up. I think Erik's attempting to cook breakfast all by himself out there."

"Duly noted," Jane said, her eyes snapping open immediately.

As the Boss Lady got out of bed and left the room, Darcy could distinctly hear Erik say, "Good morning, Jane! I'm making us bacon-cinnamon crepes for dinner!"

Jane, Thor, and Erik left the apartment at half past four, which was unfortunately also around the time that Darcy was finally able to fall back asleep. When she woke up next, groggy and covered in sweat, she immediately knew she had overslept. Checking her phone, she found the time to be 11:52 AM. _Well, better late than never_, she thought to herself, stretching and mentally preparing herself to face the day and, more importantly, face Loki.

If she knew him well enough, she knew he would be up for about an hour now. So she was more than a little surprised to find the living area, the kitchen, the not-living room, _and_ the bathroom completely devoid of life. She sighed, realizing that Loki was probably still cooped up in his bedroom, and decided to go check on him, for Thor's sake.

She knocked timidly on Loki's bedroom door. "Jazz—Loki? It's just me. I just wanna make sure you're all right." After receiving no answer, she tried knocking again, louder this time. "Loki? You okay?" But the room remained silent as ever. Finally, "_Loki,_" Darcy said, before pushing the bedroom door open herself.

The room was empty.

Darcy reeled.

_Oh, no . . . ._

_No way I just lost a fucking prince of Asgard._

Darcy thought about all the places she hadn't checked yet, and realized that only Erik's bedroom remained. But what the fuck would Loki be doing in Erik's room? _Does it really matter?_ a little voice inside her head asked. _Just check._ Holding on to the slightest sliver of hope, Darcy opened the door to Erik's bedroom, but the room turned out to be as empty as her hopes had evidently been. She felt a shadow of panic brush against her chest, but quickly fought it back, although two things remained perfectly clear: One, she'd really done it now, and two, Thor was going to kill her.

What now? Call up Jane with what was quite possibly the worst news ever? Although, Erik would most likely be ecstatic. Erik. Something Erik had said yesterday was now nagging Darcy at the back of her brain. When Loki wouldn't come out of his room the night before, Erik had said that he was behaving like he had his first day here, when he wouldn't come in _FROM THE BALCONY. RIGHT._

Flooded with relief, Darcy ran out of Erik's room, through the living area/lab space, and then into the kitchen, where the door leading onto the balcony could be found. It had been unlocked from the inside: the first good sign. Darcy sprang out, and—

Her stomach dropped.

Not a soul was out on the balcony.

This time, panic actually managed to grab a momentary hold of her, and in that moment, she assumed the worst, rushing toward the balcony parapet and casting her gaze downward. But thinking the situation over logically, she realized she was overreacting. Loki came off as simply too self-loving to be the suicidal type. Besides, would a fall like this even kill an Asgardian? _Especially_ one who had survived getting fucking Hulk-smashed? Darcy thought not. Drawing away from the parapet, she wrapped her arms around herself against the piercing-cold gale that whipped through the city today, trying to rack her brain for any and all other ideas as to where Loki could've disappeared to. And that was when she noticed it: The door to the balcony's small storage . . . er, shed, or whatever it was, was opened slightly. And as Darcy got closer, she realized that the padlock that had, until now, kept the shed inaccessible to anyone other than building management was currently lying on the ground, having been literally torn from the latch.

"What the . . . ?" Darcy mumbled to herself, opening the door of the little "shed", only to discover that it wasn't a shed, at all. It was, in fact, just a small space that housed a total of one rusty ladder leading up to the ceiling, where a trapdoor opened onto the roof of the building itself. "Hello?" Darcy called up at the trapdoor, strongly doubting her voice could make it anywhere useful in the wind. "Loki?" No response. "Fuck this shit. No way am I going up there without at least shoes and a jacket on."

Darcy returned to the apartment and geared up, putting on a pair of old Converse and a bright-purple windbreaker.

Climbing up the ladder, knowing full well that she was trespassing, Darcy emerged onto the windblown roof. She'd only ever been on the roof of Jane's old New Mexico laboratory before, and this rooftop was definitely higher, vaster, and . . . scarier. The first and most important thing Darcy noticed was the complete and utter lack of railing or parapet around the rooftop's perimeter. (_Because safety last, kids!_) Next it was what was actually there: mostly the end parts of giant ventilation shafts, extending out of the floor of the roof two or three feet and then curving downward to prevent rain, snow, and other crap from entering the shaft. Outcrops of TV antennas and satellite dishes of various sizes also sprung up around the rooftop, in no pattern Darcy could discern. Some construction materials, seemingly abandoned, lay in piles here and there. And there, in the middle of it all, lay the cause of Darcy's pain and frustration: one solitary mischief god.

Darcy let out a groan of simultaneous exasperation and relief, before making her way over to the pain in her ass lounging on the roof.

And Loki really was lounging. Stretched out comfortably with his ankles crossed, he lay on his back in the middle of the rooftop, one arm folded under his head and the other currently occupied with lazily spinning an empty beer can, a handful of leaves, and an old receipt paper in an endless circle several feet in the air above his head. He wore his boots and his long black-green-and-gold overcoat over his usual garb.

"_There_ you are," Darcy ground out, coming to a stop beside him. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"Why would you worry about me?" Loki asked blankly, without looking at her.

"Oh, I wasn't worried about _you_," Darcy huffed in response. _Great. Now he probably thinks I actually care about him._ "I was mostly worried about Thor killing me because something had happened to you on my watch, or Jane killing me because you had run off and were trying to take over the world again."

Loki looked unconvinced, so Darcy snapped into offensive mode.

"What're you even doing up here, anyway? Other than putting on a magic show for the pigeons? You know that lock on the door meant we can't be up here, right? We need to leave, _now_."

Loki clenched his hand into a fist, and above him, the leaves, beer can, and receipt paper compressed into an entity no larger than a golf ball, which Loki then simply flicked away.

Darcy could not see where it landed.

"Try to escort me, Miss Lewis," Loki said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Please do."

Darcy sighed, recognizing the futility of her endeavor. "I'm obviously not gonna fight you, Loki. You wanna be alone? Whatever. Just tell me what you're doing up here, and I'll go."

Loki looked at her for the first time since she had come up on the roof, contemplating. Then he looked away. "I was thinking of my mother," he said, after a beat. "The last time she and I had touched."

"_Aaaaand_ that's my cue to leave," Darcy said, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away. She was surprised by how quickly her anger with Loki was replaced by the all-too-familiar guilt.

"Wait," she heard Loki's voice say behind her.

She froze, then turned around slowly, hoping her face wouldn't betray her emotions.

But Loki still wasn't looking at her. "You may stay," he said. "If you wish."

It is said that the smallest decisions can have the most significant of outcomes, without us even realizing it. But had Darcy Lewis known that her next decision would save a life, that it would bring her the greatest joy as well as the greatest trauma she had ever experienced, and that it would, eventually, define the fate of the universe itself, would she still have made the same choice? Nah, probably not. She probably would've gotten the fuck off that rooftop.

But luckily for everyone, Darcy had no idea what she was getting herself into, and so she answered, "All right."

She returned to where Loki lay on the ground, unsure of what he wanted her to do now that she'd elected to stay. When he didn't move or say anything, she sat down on the concrete next to him, and then lay all the way down, putting her hands under her head. Her elbow came to rest against Loki's right shoulder, making her stiffen, expecting him to jerk away, but when he didn't, she relaxed, slowly allowing herself to get used to the idea of being this close to him.

But why had he asked her to stay? Was the God of Lies ready to have an honest conversation, for once?

"Thor told Erik, Jane, and I . . . ." Darcy began, but trailed off, because her voice was hoarse and making her sound like a seventy-year-old human male who had been smoking cigarettes since childhood. She hadn't realized she was nervous. She cleared her throat, gazing up into the gray, cloudy sky, before trying again. "He told us that Frigga came to visit you in your cell, shortly before she was . . . ." Darcy could not finish her sentence.

"Killed?" Loki finished for her. "Murdered brutally, protecting a woman she had just met, because it was the right thing to do?"

"Yes, that," Darcy answered quietly.

"Frigga never visited me in person," Loki said. "I was dangerous. I _am_ . . . dangerous. She came to me as an illusion."

"Huh?" Darcy said immediately.

Loki sighed impatiently beside her. "How to explain magic to a layman . . . ."

"Try science," Darcy suggested.

Loki's shoulders shook with a single chuckle. "All right, Little Mortal. Then imagine piloting a remote-controlled holograph of yourself."

"Awesome! I didn't know that was one of your mom's abilities."

"Yes. One I was lucky enough to have passed down to me. But that is not the point. The point is that while that final visit did give me the opportunity to see and talk to my mother, I could not physically touch her. The privilege to do that one last time had been granted me years earlier."

"Wanna talk about it?" Darcy asked gently.

"My brother put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Yup. But that's not why I'm doing it. So, wanna talk about it?"

"All right, let's _talk_, to ease my brother's _worry_," Loki said, and there was sudden poison on his tongue. "The last time I touched my mother was immediately following my _murdering_ my biological father, the king of the Frost Giants, Laufey. My mother saw this, and she threw her arms around me in gratitude, because she thought I had done it simply to save Odin's life. Little did she know that I had been the one to let Laufey into the palace to begin with, or that I had attempted to take the life of her beloved son Thor earlier. Oh, I do not think she would have embraced me had she known. Do you?"

Before Darcy could answer, Loki continued, his tone growing more bitter by the second.

"And despite this, despite everything I had done and everything I would go on to do in New York, she still begged with the Allfather to have him spare my life, the daft woman. Good thing I reminded her of who she truly is to me before her death. Why, our final conversation was the most honest I had had with her in my entire life! I rid her, once and for all, of the delusion that _she is my mother_. Can you imagine the _relief_ she must have felt upon hearing that she is not?"

"Loki . . . ."

"Because to me, it was truly freeing. If it were not for our conversation, I might have even regretted giving the Kursed Elf the directions for the quickest way out of the dungeons. And when he would later come to stab and kill Frigga, I might have even felt pain, and more guilt and self-hatred that can be put into words. But I did not. I did not. _I did not._"

"Loki."

He turned to her and met her stare. "'Loki' _what_?"

Darcy had no idea what her face looked like right now. She had no idea what she even felt, other than a near-overpowering burning in her chest. "Did you love her?"

He turned away again, before answering, "_Yes._"

"And do you think even your most powerful illusion could've tricked her into believing otherwise?"

Loki remained silent for what felt like a long time, but finally, Darcy heard him quietly say, "Thank you."

But because Darcy was about as good at providing comfort as she was at playing softball (meaning she was abysmal), her only other instinct was to silently reach out and place her hand on top of Loki's wrist. But it was better than nothing.

They stayed like that for a while, watching dry leaves and various pieces of garbage get blown around them by the wind.

"I haven't talked to my parents in almost five years," Darcy said, before she could stop herself, before she could consider the size of the can of worms this would open. She regretted it immediately, grimacing and shutting her eyes, and hoping Loki somehow hadn't heard her.

He had. "Why?" came his almost instantaneous question.

"Uh, never mind. Forget that I even said something."

"Your saying something is what tells me that you wish to discuss it."

"I don't . . . . I mean, I _can't_ . . . . I've never . . . ."

"Talked about it before? Like I had never disclosed to anyone the nature of my last conversation with Frigga?"

"You wouldn't find my story worth listening to, trust me."

"How about you let me be the judge of that?"

Darcy turned and looked at his face, and saw no trickery in it. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she had needed a listener for the past five years now. "All right, fine. The thing is that I come from a very conservative family. Like, picture the most Republican voting, church going, Jesus worshiping, pasty-faced group of people you can. And then take me."

"I take it your views and the views of your family differed considerably."

"'Considerably' is an understatement. But I have no problem with that! I'm all for different ideas and freedom of expression and whatnot. But unfortunately for me, my parents were not. They were more my-way-or-the-highway kinda people, and their way was actually pretty fucking horrible."

"Sounds like it. I mean, you did say they worshiped the Jesus deity over their one _true_ god."

"Let me guess—that would be you?"

"Of course."

"Do you even realize how _not_ funny you are?"

Loki chuckled for the second time since Darcy had started talking to him on the rooftop. "My apologies. Do continue."

Darcy rolled her eyes, but smiled, nevertheless. "_Anyways._ I was the only child—a _girl_. Which somehow managed to make things even worse. My parents expected me to be their vision of the perfect daughter, and for the first seventeen years of my life, I really did try to make them happy. I'd gone to church for as long as I could remember, always acted like a proper Christian young lady, and even when I hit puberty and my mom began dolling me up every morning before school and making me wear low-cut shirts and tight dresses and talking about husbands and the importance of marrying while I was still 'in my good years', I went with it. That's not to say that I didn't follow my own interests on the side. And in secret, unfortunately."

"Why did your parents disapprove of your interests? Surely you didn't wish to conquer worlds and command armies, did you?"

Darcy smacked Loki on the ribs. "My dad had always found it cute that I'd watch the evening news with him, until at around age twelve I began having and _winning_ serious political debates against him. Honestly pretty easy thing to do when arguing with a man with so narrow a worldview. But anyways, that was about the time that he put his foot down about me watching the news with him, saying, 'Proper young ladies shouldn't bother themselves with matters best decided by men. Why don't you spend this time learning how to do your hair up all pretty instead?' He had forgotten that I had a laptop and an Internet connection.

"At fifteen, when I was already looking into colleges with the best poli-sci programs available in the US, my parents introduced me to Derek. He was three years older than me, the son of some friends of the family. When our respectful parents set us up on our first date, I hoped he was a kindred spirit, so I tested the waters, laughing at the antiquatedness of the whole thing and insinuating my desire to just be friends. That was when he turned to me and coldly informed me that his parents had told him he would not inherit the family business until he got married."

"So you were a means to an end," Loki said derisively. "I know the feeling. I imagine you were not impressed."

"Oh, sure, I was hurt. At first. Until I realized that I'd take disinterest over having to fight off unwanted advances _any_ day of the week. Then I was actually kinda happy. I mean, yeah, our parentally ordered so-called 'dates' were painfully boring, but I had more important things to worry about, anyways, like keeping my grades up and thinking of the best way in which to introduce my parents to the idea of me going to college. I had decided on Culver University by then.

"I finally told my parents about my aspirations six months before I would graduate high school, explaining to them where I wanted to go, what program I wanted to take, and why it was so important to me. I then asked if they'd be willing to help me out with money, seeing as, even though my mom didn't work, we definitely didn't have any problems in the department. They listened to me patiently and without interruption, and then told me they'd discuss it and get back to me. I'd never been so nervous in my life. But then, the following day, completely opposite to my expectations, they happily let me know that I was in for a big surprise, but that I'd have to wait until after I'd graduated to find out what it is. Very excited, I went ahead and applied to Culver, as well as several backup options.

"I didn't get a response from Culver until a week before graduation, but bitch, apparently all my hard work in high school had paid off, because not only did I get accepted, but I got accepted on _full fucking scholarship_. Know what that is?"

"Not the slightest idea."

"It's when the university pays _everything_. Tuition, books and supplies, housing. I even had an amount allotted just for miscellaneous living expenses!"

"On Asgard, education is free for everyone."

"Oh . . . well, that's just _great_," Darcy said, her sarcasm meter scaling off the charts. "I am so _relieved_ to hear that on some pancake-shaped planet halfway across the galaxy, education is free for everyone."

"Yes, as am I," Loki deadpanned, earning himself a glare from Darcy. He smirked. "I also have a prediction to make: Your parents could not care less about your accomplishment."

"Actually, they never found out."

"Why in Helheim not? I would've rubbed it in their faces."

"And in retrospect, that would've been the right thing to do. But unfortunately, I was still very nice back then, and didn't wanna one-up whatever surprise my parents had planned for me. So I decided to wait until after they gave me their surprise to present them with mine. And boy did my surprise ever end up being _great_. It just wasn't what I had had in mind originally."

"Something tells me your parents' surprise didn't quite match your expectations, either."

"You have no idea," Darcy said, and as the memory came back to her in sharp relief, she felt queasy. "The night following my last day of school, my parents held a soirée in my honor. I was flattered. It was literally the nicest thing they had ever done for me. Most of my family was there, and some of the closest family friends. Derek and his parents were among them, of course. And then, in front of everyone, my father announced that it was time for the big surprise. He led me to the center of the kitchen, and said, 'My dear, when you told your mother and I that you plan to go to college, we realized how important it is to you to secure your future. And then we wondered where we had gone so wrong as to make you believe we hadn't already secured it for you. Because we have, my little angel.' That was when Derek got up from his chair and strode over in silence, then got down on his knee and smiled, and then, with no emotion in his eyes whatsoever, asked me to marry him."

Loki let out a sickened scoff beside her. "Every seventeen-year-old's dream, no doubt."

"Jazz, I wanted to _puke_," Darcy said, experiencing some of that desire even now. "But I was also so _relieved_. Finally, I knew without a single doubt that if I were to stay in that house any longer, I would die. So I left."

"You just left?"

"Yup. I still owed my parents a surprise, remember? And I think leaving Derek kneeling in the middle of the kitchen floor with no answer was the best one that I had ever given them. I went straight to my room, packed a suitcase, and then just left. Ended up sleeping in a motel that night, but the following morning I was on the first bus to Willowdale, West Virginia. Found myself a part-time job at a diner to get me through the summer, and then school started and my scholarship got me through the rest."

"Did your parents search for you?"

"Nope. Didn't even leave a message on my phone. Which is one of the many reasons I have yet to regret leaving."

"My family thought me dead, and yet my mother still searched for me . . . ." Loki said solemnly.

"Because she loved you, despite everything. You're so lucky to have had her in your life."

"Darcy, I am sor—"

"No need. Honestly. They aren't even worth being acknowledged with a "sorry". They're a long-forgotten fragment of my past, and I'd like them to stay that way. Because guess who I meet at the end of my second year at Culver? _Jane._ And she's been like a sister to me ever since. Not sure if you know this, but she's lost her folks, too. Mom had breast cancer that spread to her liver, and then her dad died from carbon monoxide poisoning four years later. But we're there for each other, through thick and thin. And let's not forget about the _rest_ of our little family! Motherfucking _Thor_. Crazy Erik. Ian. And hell, you can be our criminally insane adopted cousin!"

"I'm _flattered_," Loki drawled.

Darcy grinned. "As you should be!"

"Mhm, yes, to be part of a family comprised of an oaf, a scatterbrained scientist, a mental old man, a faceless stranger, and a rude, loudmouthed wench."

"I'm rude and loudmouthed?"

"Oh, to the core."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, is this news to you?"

"You kidding?" Darcy said, snorting loudly. But then her self-confidence waned a little. "But it does make me wonder sometimes."

"Wonder what?"

Darcy sighed and bit her lower lip. _Of course_ she had had to go and open her big mouth again. "It makes me wonder if this is who I really am, or if I only turned out this way because I was desperate not to end up like my parents."

Loki shrugged. "No one can answer that question for you other than you, Little Mortal," he said. "But for what it is worth, I hope that the rude, loudmouthed wench I have come to know is the true you."

Darcy turned and looked at Loki in complete surprise. He looked back at her evenly, and she felt the distinct desire to reach out and touch his wrist again, but didn't.

"Loki, would you like to come inside and have some lunch now?" she asked instead.

"Yes, I think I would," Loki answered.

They rose from the concrete—Darcy was feeling a little sore now—and began making their way back toward the trapdoor that led down to their balcony. Darcy was certain that things between her and Loki would be all right now.

Halfway to their destination, Darcy was startled by the sound of several dozen whistling, beating wings. It was a sound she knew had once warned her ancestors of nearby predators, and so, instinctively, and with a strange, involuntary feeling of dread, she turned to look in the direction of its source. A kit of pigeons was hastily flapping their way through the air, away from the opposite end of the roof, where they had been perched. And then, Darcy saw the cause of their distress.

A head appeared above the side of the building, which confused Darcy greatly until she realized that there must be a fire escape there. Next came a pair of shoulders, and as Darcy recognized the familiar armor and mask, her stomach lurched.

The rooftop visitor was a Dark Elf.

"Uh . . . Loki?" Darcy said, watching as one, two, three, _four_ more Elves climbed onto the roof behind their leader.

Suddenly, the god was at her side. Reaching an arm across her chest, he forced her back a couple of steps.

"Remain very still," he told her.

Darcy didn't think she could move even if she tried. So many questions were running through her mind: Where did these Elves come from? Why were they here? Why didn't they just use the elevator? (Well, okay, that last one kind of answered itself.)

It turned out Loki had similar questions on his mind. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked unceremoniously, addressing the Dark Elf Darcy had assumed to be the leader.

"Mortals!" bellowed the Elf. "We are the last of an ancient, noble race, and we are here for no reason other than to exact revenge on the one responsible for our demise! Is this the residence of the one they call _Thor_?"

_So, they're Greenwich survivors_, Darcy thought. _Lovely._

"Captain," said the Dark Elf standing to the leader's right, "I am unsure of the female, but the man before you is not mortal. He is Loki of Jotunheim, an ally of Thor. I saw him fight alongside the thunderer when Malekith claimed the Aether on Svartalfheim."

"The female is part of the thuderer's cohort, also," said another Elf. "She fought with him on this forsaken realm."

"It appears we are in the right place, then," said the Elf captain. "Kill them."

All five Elves set off across the rooftop, and Darcy jerked backwards, prepared to run. But then she realized that Loki showed no sign of intending to move.

"Darcy, I need you to return to the apartment now," he said, without talking his eyes off the rapidly approaching Elves. "Do not remain there, however. Take the stairs down to the ground level and leave the building. Go somewhere you know is secure. Once you are safe, contact Jane and Thor."

"Yeah, and you're gonna come _with_ me, right?" Darcy demanded.

"What, and miss the opportunity to slay these foul creatures where they stand?" Loki asked, undeniable excitement in his voice. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"There're five of them and one of you," Darcy pointed out, feeling altogether uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Loki to fight these monsters all on his own.

"I fought and killed four of these vermin unassisted before," Loki retorted matter of factly. "Surely one more won't make much of a difference."

"Loki, you're _unarmed_!" Darcy cried out, eyeing the Dark Elves' blades apprehensively.

Loki turned to her then, and there was a huge, mischievous grin splitting his face. "You may not know much about me, Little Mortal, but this is something I think you could've figured out even by yourself: I am _never_ unarmed."

Loki removed his arm from Darcy's chest and flicked his wrist, and a small dagger appeared in his hand. The whole thing happened so fast, Darcy wasn't able to tell if the dagger had been hidden up the sleeve of Loki's tunic this whole time or if it had just now appeared out of thin air.

"You're gonna fight them with that little thing?" Darcy asked incredulously.

"It is not the size that matters," Loki said, winking. "Now _run_."

And before Darcy had another opportunity to retort, Loki charged at the Elves, immediately knocking the closest one onto his back with a telekinetic blast aimed by his left hand.

"_Fuuuuuuck_," Darcy hissed, then turned on her heel and began to sprint in the direction of the trapdoor. But she didn't even make it twenty feet before a small voice began a monologue inside her head:

_Really, Darce? You're just gonna leave the guy when he's outnumbered five to one? Who do you think he is__, _Thor_? This is the quiet, nerdy brother, remember?_

Swearing at her conscience like a deranged sailor, Darcy skidded to a stop and turned around, half expecting Loki to be dead by now. But to her surprise, Loki appeared to be doing quite well—_very_ well, actually—for himself.

One Elf Darcy could only assume was dead—he lay on the ground in a heap, a puddle of dark stuff pooled around his body. The remaining four, meanwhile, took turns frantically swiping at Loki with their knives, while the mischief god dodged every strike with the light-footedness of a dancer. Darcy had thought his thinner frame would prove to be an inconvenience when fighting the slightly bulkier enemies; she hadn't realized how quick and agile it made him.

But now, Darcy realized, Loki appeared to have no way out of this circle of death that the Dark Elves had trapped him in. Until, that is, as an Elf took yet another swipe at him with his knife, instead of dodging it or blocking it with his dagger, Loki snapped his fingers, and the weapon simply vanished from the Elf's hand. With the speed of a striking snake, Loki plunged his own dagger into the side of the Elf's neck, where his armour looked thinnest. The Elf stumbled backwards, clutching at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the steady stream of blood now gushing from his wound, but before Darcy could cheer, the remaining three Elves plunged their daggers into Loki's back.

Darcy screamed. One Elf looked up at her, but the other two were staring at their own weapons in what looked oddly like confusion. And then, if a flash of white-green light, Loki _vanished_.

_What the fuck just happened?_ Darcy thought to herself, now feeling about as confused as the Dark Elves looked. Did Loki just _teleport_? Was he hurt, or did the Elves simply stab an illusion that looked like him? Loki _had_ said he could control his holographs from a distance. Could he also turn invisible?

Darcy's questions were answered (somewhat) when Loki, looking quite unharmed, appeared, as if from beyond a dissolving, invisible wall, behind the largest of the surviving Elves and finished him off as he had done his previous victim.

Now only the Elf captain and one other Dark Elf remained.

With a roar of pure, unrestrained rage, the Elf captain lunged at Loki and tackled him to the ground, Loki barely able to keep the Elf's blade from plunging into his unarmored chest. Darcy threw her hands over her mouth to stop herself from screaming again, but her attention was quickly usurped by the other surviving Elf. He stood a ways away from his captain and Loki as they fought down on the ground, and the black, unblinking eyeholes of his mask were fixed unwaveringly on Darcy.

Darcy felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck, and a deep, stomach-turning sensation of being _prey_ consumed her. _Oh, God, please, no . . . ._

But seeing as the only god currently in Darcy's vicinity was a little preoccupied with not dying himself, no one stopped the Dark Elf as he began to stalk steadily toward Darcy. A chilling fear descended upon her, and, blinded by instinct and a rush of adrenaline, she turned and bolted in the opposite direction.

It wasn't until she heard the thunder of the Dark Elf's rapidly approaching footfalls over the rush of her own blood that she realized her earlier decision to run would most definitely prove futile. The Dark Elf was much taller than her, with far longer legs, and the trapdoor was still some distance away. She'd never make it, and even if she did, she sure as hell wouldn't get away on the balcony or in the apartment. Her only option, she realized as her head cleared, was to stop and give up a fight. But first, she needed to find a weapon.

Unless her ears were deceiving her, the Dark Elf was mere feet away when she spotted a pile of old building materials lying beside a massive, protruding end part of a ventilation shaft. Her eyes immediately fell on a rusty old metal rod, about six feet long and no more than half of an inch thick. She lunged toward it, grabbed it up into her hands, and spun around, aiming the opposite end in front of her.

The impact that occurred immediately afterward threw Darcy onto the ground before she could even understand what had happened. She landed heavily on her tailbone, and was pushed several feet backwards until she slammed hard into the side of the ventilation shaft. Winded, disoriented, Darcy found herself having trouble making sense of her surroundings.

One thing she was aware of was the fact that she was still holding the rod. The end in her hands had been forcefully jammed against the exact spot where the side of the ventilation shaft met the concrete ground. The opposite end, however, pointed up at a thirty-degree angle, though Darcy wasn't the one holding it up. And then she remembered the Dark Elf. Squirming, she contracted herself into her closest imitation of a ball, though she knew it would do nothing against the deadly blow that was surely coming. But it never came. And then, Darcy became aware of something else entirely.

Something sticky and cold was oozing onto her hands. Slowly prying open her eyes, she looked up at where her hands clutched the rod in a death grip and saw a black, syrupy liquid trickling down the rod and onto her pale fingers. Shaking with anxiety, she followed the length of the rod upward with her gaze, and then jolted and froze as her wide-open eyes met the dead, unseeing gaze of the Dark Elf who had tried to kill her. Though very much not alive anymore, his wide, unnaturally pale-blue eyes were frozen in an expression of immense surprise. And no wonder, considering there was a long metal rod currently perforating his throat clean through. Darcy shrieked and let go of the rod, and the dead Elf toppled from his sprawled kneeling position onto his side.

Dangerously close to going into shock, Darcy stared at her blood-blackened hands, and then began wiping them frantically on her windbreaker. She continued doing this as if in a haze, until a pair of powerful hands wrenched her off the ground and held her up on her feet. Her vision clearing slowly, she found herself looking into the worried crystal-blue eyes of Loki.

"Are you all right? Are you harmed?" he demanded immediately, and the urgency in his voice sounded less like impatience and more like apprehension.

"N-No," Darcy stuttered.

Loki held her away from him at arm's length, scrutinizing her from head to toe for damage.

"The Elf captain—" Darcy choked out.

"Dead," Loki assured her, then, apparently satisfied that she wasn't hurt, he let go of her shoulder, straightened to his full height, and grinned. "Had me in a chokehold for a good several seconds there. His lackey would've surely finished me off had he not chosen to come after _you_ instead."

Darcy wobbled, and Loki was forced to put his hand back on her shoulder to steady her.

"I do apologize for that, by the way," he said, though only half seriously. "It appears four Elves at a time is truly my limit."

"Four," Darcy repeated dully. "You just took four lives."

"Impressed?" Loki asked, with a smug smile.

"More like terrified," Darcy mumbled.

"Well, by the looks of it, you fared quite well for yourself." Loki shoved the Dark Elf Darcy had killed with the toe of his boot.

Darcy felt a sudden and uncontrollable urge to explain. "He ran into the rod—He just ran into it—"

Loki looked absolutely delighted by this revelation. "Are you telling me he impaled _himself_? By the Allfather, these Dark Elves must be duller than Thor . . . ."

As Loki continued marveling humorously at the fact that the Dark Elf had accidentally run into Darcy's rod, thus killing himself, Darcy found she didn't share any of his delight. In fact, she was feeling quite the opposite, as a gruesome, sickening realization settled slowly in her belly.

"Jesus Christ, I've killed someone one," she whispered, without even realizing she was talking out loud.

"Pardon?" asked Loki, bringing his attention back to her.

But she hardly heard him. The mind-numbing adrenaline was wearing off, and as it drained from her system, the reality of what had happened was finally beginning to sink in. Involuntary tears sprung up in her eyes, and her stomach turned and rolled in a threatening manner.

It appeared to have finally dawned on Loki that Darcy wasn't all right. "Darcy?" he asked, his tone going deathly serious. "What is the matter?"

She looked up into his face, which was a huge mistake, because as soon as she looked into his eyes, which looked back almost kindly into hers, it all spilled out. The tears came first; she felt them run down her cheeks, first hot, but cooling quickly in the sharp wind. And then, before she could stop herself, she was saying everything she felt might tear her apart.

"What's the matter? _What's the matter?_ I _KILLED_ THAT ELF, LOKI. I'M A _MURDERER_. HOW COULD I DO THAT? HOW CAN I CALL MYSELF A GOOD PERSON NOW THAT I'VE TAKEN A LIFE? I'M A _MONSTER_."

She broke down and looked at the ground, sobbing. To her surprise, she immediately felt Loki's cool fingers under her chin, forcing it upward until she was looking into his eyes again. But any kindness she might have seen there before was gone now.

"Never regret taking the life of another if it means saving your own or that of a person you love," the trickster told her coldly. "The price of hesitation is far too high, trust me."

Darcy considered his words, and, surprisingly, felt slightly better. Loki was right: If she hadn't chosen to fight and kill, _she_ would be the one lying dead on the ground right now. And then a whole new realization washed over her: _She had almost died just now._ But like a boss, she had stood her ground, and fought, and had motherfucking _survived_. And the odds had definitely _not_ been in her favour, that was for sure. Which was proof of one thing and one thing only: _She was one badass mothefucker._ One badass motherfucker who was very much _alive_. Suddenly feeling as euphoric as if she had just taken ten espresso shots, Darcy marveled at how wonderfully amazing it was to be alive, and not dead like the Dark Elf lying in the concrete dust at her feet.

"Dawn on you yet?" Loki asked, removing his fingers from Darcy's chin. Then his hand kind of froze in mid-air. "There is blood on your chin," he said, reaching for Darcy's face again. "Let me check if you have a cut."

But Darcy pulled away, her eyes widening as she stared at Loki's hand. "Dude, _you're_ the one who's bleeding! Look at your arm!"

Loki looked down at his right arm with an expression of mild surprise, which quickly turned to one of slight irritation, as if the fact that both his hand and the sleeve of his tunic were currently drenched in blood from a long gash running down his forearm was only a minor inconvenience to him.

"Damn," he said flatly, rolling up his sleeve to take a closer look at his wound, which, once uncovered, looked even deeper and more horrifying than before. "Should've killed that dullard of an Elf captain first."

"Jazz, not to freak you out or anything, but you need to go to the emergency room, like, _now_," Darcy said, freaking out herself. "I've _taken_ first aid and CPR, and if you don't get stitches, you can, like, _bleed out_ from a cut like that."

Loki was looking at her like she had just told him he was about to sprout fairy wings. "I do not require _stitches_, Little Mortal," he said haughtily. "This wound will close up on its own by tomorrow. In a week, I will have no trace of it left."

And then Darcy remembered something Thor had told her, Jane, and Erik many months ago, when he had accidentally just about chopped his thumb off while cutting onions for dinner one night, something about Asgardians being able to regenerate much faster than humans. She now supposed that Frost Giants must have a similar ability in their repertoire.

"We should go back inside," Loki told her, trudging off in the direction of the trapdoor.

"Yup," Darcy said, beginning to follow him. "I have a particularly _wonderful_ phonecall to make."

Darcy had never felt so relieved to be inside their perpetually messy apartment in her life. Throwing off her bloodied windbreaker, she immediately went to look for her phone, all the while thinking of how best to tell Jane the news that there were now five dead alien bodies on their rooftop, but then noticed that Loki's arm was still dripping blood, despite his earlier assurances that he didn't need any medical help.

"Dude, let me at least bandage that for you," she said, looking disapprovingly at the trail of crimson Loki had left across the kitchen floor.

Loki sighed impatiently. "As I already said, by tomorrow—"

"Yes, I know," Darcy said quickly, cringing as yet another thick droplet hit the floor, and wondering how long it took for blood to stain linoleum, "but I'm not letting you bleed all over the place until then."

Before Loki could protest, she led him into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. Washing her hands, she took a first-aid kit from the cupboard under the vanity and placed it on the bathtub beside Loki, before crouching down on the floor and taking a closer look at Loki's arm. The cut looked even nastier up close.

"I'm gonna have to rinse it out," she said. "This might sting a bit."

Loki watched, seemingly unfazed by the promise of pain, as Darcy ran lukewarm water from the shower head and then held his arm over the bathtub and carefully rinsed his wound clean of blood and dirt. She dried his arm with a small hand towel.

Next, she opened the first-aid kit and reached for a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"This is _definitely_ gonna sting _a lot_," she warned.

But Loki remained as nonplussed as ever as Darcy poured liberal amounts of alcohol over his wound, the pungent fumes wafting across the room. When she was done, she dabbed the excess alcohol from Loki's skin with the hand towel, while the rest evaporated on its own.

"You do realize how stupid it was of you to try fighting all those Elves on your own, right?" Darcy asked, laying Loki's arm down on top of his knee and beginning to wrap it in a length of gauze bandage. She was acutely aware of the complete lack of personal space between them, and, for the first time, felt excited by it. "Should've just run together like I wanted," she added.

"Mmm, yes, I agree," Loki said, suddenly smirking at her mysteriously. "If I'd run, at least I wouldn't be getting called stupid by an ungrateful mortal right now."

Darcy scoffed at him, although his smirk and his teasing had gone straight to the mounting tingling between her legs. "And what exactly am I supposed to be grateful for, hmm?" she asked cockily. "Almost dying?"

"It is not my fault you couldn't simply run on your own," Loki pointed out smugly.

"And it's not my fault you couldn't just run _with_ me!" Darcy retorted hotly. "Had to stay behind and prove your macho godliness or something. Nearly got _both_ of us killed in the process."

"Is that what you think I was doing?" Loki asked, his eyes glinting with humor as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Proving my 'macho godliness'?"

"Uh, _yeah_!" Darcy said, getting more worked up by the second. "Burning off extra testosterone or whatever it is you men idiotically like to do!"

"I see," Loki said, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement now. "But have you actually considered what would have happened had we both run?"

"Yeah. Right about now, we'd be hunkering down somewhere safe, unhurt, calling Jane and the _fucking God of Thunder_ to come to our rescue."

"Actually, that would just be me," Loki said, grinning in immense satisfaction. "You, on other hand, would be lying dead somewhere, probably with a knife in your back."

"_Excuse me?_" Darcy spat. "And why in God's name would I be _dead_?"

Loki looked at her like the answer to her question was quite obvious. It was.

"How quickly can you run, compared to an Elf?" Loki asked.

Darcy felt that the implication behind the question was truly rather scandalous. "Why, I never—! I don't see how—? It shouldn't—!" Then, in a smaller, quieter voice, she said, "All right, so maybe not very fast . . . . _But so what?_ You saw what happened to the Elf who attacked me!"

"It was one Elf, and you got lucky," Loki said, his eyes not quite so amused now. "Now imagine trying to fight off five of them."

Darcy opened her mouth to speak in outrage again, but then closed it. Loki was right, of course. But she wasn't about to let him win their argument _this_ easily.

"Yeah, but you would've protected me, wouldn't have you?" she asked, looking up at him with an expression of mock innocence and batting her eyelashes very obviously.

But Loki looked back at her with a grim expression on his face. "In a tight space like the balcony or this apartment, not very likely. Not unless I wanted to end up dead, too. On the wide-open rooftop, however, where I could engage all five Elves at once, keep them occupied, give you time to run . . . ." Loki trailed off, looking as though he was surprised by something he himself had just said.

They fell quiet, Darcy reeling a little from what she'd just learned. So Loki had stayed to give her a fighting chance, not to let off steam. Why the hell did he do that?

"But you knew you could die," she said, when she couldn't take not knowing any longer. "You said it yourself: If I hadn't stayed, the last two Elves would've probably killed you. Why would you risk your life like that for me?"

Loki looked at her pensively, but then, suddenly, his face lit up with a smirk so wicked, Darcy didn't know whether she wanted to smack it off or kiss it off.

"_Well . . ._" Loki drawled, his voice like molasses, ". . . a _king_ must always be protective of his subjects, must he not?"

And that was when the emotional dam holding back all of Darcy's tension and irritation just burst.

"AW, _HALE_, NAW," she intoned loudly, suddenly channeling the fat, sassy black lady who lives inside us all. "YOU ARE _NOT_ MY KING, MISTER."

"And yet here you are . . ." Loki purred pleasantly, his eyes on fire, ". . . kneeling at my feet . . . ."

Darcy gasped like somebody had just insulted her to the core to her being, and sprang to her feet at once. She had actually forgotten that she'd been sitting at Loki's feet doing absolutely nothing for several minutes now. Flustered to the point that speech had become impossible, she just stood there, opening and closing her mouth uselessly and shooting daggers at the God of Mischief. Loki, meanwhile, seemed utterly elated by her frustration; his face was screwed up in silent, uncontrollable laughter, and his smirk had been replaced by a full-on devilish grin.

Seething with a volatile mixture of rage and lust, all Darcy wanted was to think of something, _anything_, to say to the dickhead in her defense, and so, completely unsurprisingly, she ended up spluttering out the very first thing that came to her mind:

"Yeah, well, next time you expect me to kneel for you, you better be buying me some dinner first!"

She felt her face flush as soon as the words had left her mouth. Loki stopped laughing, and all Darcy could do was pray to any gods there might be that he had not understood her euphemism.

"I do not know any restaurants in London, unfortunately," Loki said, gazing at Darcy with the same intensity that he had devoted her that very first time he had truly looked at her, "so perhaps it will be better if you choose one instead, and then _I_ do the kneeling? What do you think, _Darcy_?"

What Darcy was thinking, other than that her face had probably just flushed fifty different shades of red, was that Loki was never, _ever_ allowed to say her name in that voice ever again, and that if she didn't walk away now, she would simply jump the asshole now and here. So, without giving Loki an actual answer, she promptly turned on her heel and stormed out of the bathroom.

"And where do you think you are going?" Loki called after her, as she headed straight for the apartment door.

"_OUT,_" Darcy roared, without looking back.

She walked out of the building and into the chilly, windy mid-May afternoon. Wrapping her arms around herself against the wind again, she set off down the street, heading nowhere in particular.

"Stupid sexy Loki," she muttered to herself angrily. Why was it that near-death experiences always made her feel so damn _horny_? That was how she and Ian had ended up getting together, and it was _annoying as hell_.

She should've probably been less surprised when about half an hour later, her wandering brought her right to the door of Ian's town house. With a sigh, she banged hard on the whitewashed wood.

Ian opened the door, looking as cute and innocent as ever, and absolutely delectable in Darcy's ravenous eyes.

"Darling!" he said, smiling happily at her. "What're you doing here?" Then his eyes darted down to her chin and took on an expression of concern, and Darcy remembered that Loki's blood was still on her face. "Darce, are you blee—"

"Are your housemates home?" Darcy interrupted huskily, her body aching.

"No," Ian said, now looking confused. "Darce, are you o—"

"Good," Darcy growled, then flung her arms around Ian's neck and devoured his lips, and the two of them stumbled back into the town house.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Standing on the balcony, Loki watched the loudmouthed one walk away down the street below him in immense satisfaction. Never in his filthiest fantasies had he imagined getting the feisty Little Mortal this worked up this easily. Not that she hadn't, unwittingly, reciprocated the favor, as the pressure in the mischief god's trousers told him only too clearly. Nevertheless, it was an interesting little experiment, and Loki was more than satisfied with the result. He wondered where Darcy was headed off to. To visit her little boytoy, perhaps?

As he walked back inside the apartment to finally make the all-important phonecall to Jane, he decided to ignore the slight pang of jealousy he had felt when thinking of the Little Mortal's paramour. It was easy, considering he was already ignoring something far more alarming: his refusal to give an honest answer to the Little Mortal's previous question, even to himself. If she truly meant nothing to him, and since he was not responsible for her in any way whatsoever, why, then, had he been so willing to lay down his life for her up on the rooftop?


	12. Chapter 12

**Well, I think most of y'all will be happy with what happens in this chapter, heh.**

* * *

Lying in the post-coital mess of tangled, sweaty sheets on Ian's bed, Ian's arms wrapped tightly around her, Darcy stared up at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on her face. With her lust now satisfied and the adrenaline and shock from the encounter with the Dark Elves worn off entirely, she found that all her raging emotions had ultimately boiled down to one: anger. She had just finished telling Ian what had happened with Loki the previous day and earlier this afternoon (conveniently leaving out the small detail that she had, for a moment, wanted to do him), which, in combination with the fact that her whole back had not long ago started killing her, no doubt thanks to her having been thrown against a giant ventilation shaft, had managed to make her even angrier.

Ian, having listened to Darcy's account in round-eyed silence, now pulled her to him even more tightly. "I've told you before, and I'll say it again, Darce:" he said fearfully, "You're not safe there. Living with Thor and Loki under the same roof is like . . . being a magnet for all this crazy, dangerous stuff. I mean, _Dark Elves_?"

Darcy winced at the added pressure on her back and then wiggled out of Ian's embrace altogether. She wasn't much of a cuddler. Being naturally very warm, she found that being in close proximity to another human being for an extended period of time usually made her feel like she was about to have a heat stroke. In fact, since she had started sleeping in the same bed as Jane, the Boss Lady had dubbed her the Human Space Heater.

"Oh, Dark Elves I can handle, no problem," Darcy spat bitterly, crossing her arms over her abdomen. "It's _Loki_ who's driving me up the wall. _Again._ Even the thing with the Elves was technically all his fault."

At this, Ian looked confused. "How so? I thought the Elves were looking for Thor, not Loki?"

Darcy scoffed at him. "Come on, Intern. I say one little thing and he freaks out at me, then he turns into a goddamned drama queen and trespasses on the roof, forcing me to go look for him, and _then_ we run into the fucking Elves. Then he tells me he's my king and that I'm kneeling at his feet and . . . ." She broke off, trembling with fury. "If we weren't up on that rooftop, the Elves might've never even found us. Oh, no, wait—it's even better than that: If His Princelypants hadn't been a baby from the start, I would be hanging out with fucking _Iron Man_ right now." She turned to Ian and added quickly, "No offense."

"None taken," he said honestly, a flash of jealousy in his eyes, and Darcy knew he wasn't jealous of Tony, but of her. "And yeah, I guess I see your point. _But_ I think I know the solution."

"Oh?" Darcy asked. "Know where I can get some colorless, tasteless poison for cheap?"

Ian blinked at her. "No . . . ?"

"Damn. So what's your solution, then?"

Ian looked away shyly. "Well—and don't freak out on me, Darce, please—I want you to move in with me, here, okay? I've already talked to my housemates about it and they said they're fine with it. I don't care, I'll pay your share of the rent and all our groceries—I can afford it, I get paid well enough at the office."

Before Darcy could stop herself, she burst out laughing. "Holy shit, Intern, are you serious? What on Earth gave you the idea that I'm ready for a commitment like that?"

Ian turned back to her, looking disgruntled. "I dunno, Darce, the fact that _I'm_ ready? Look at it this way: We're both done university and have full-time jobs—although I'm guessing you might wanna find a new one, after what happened with the Dark Elves—you know, the international-affairs sub-office is currently looking for an American to join their team, I can put in a good word for you—uhhh—right—then take the fact that we've been dating for almost seven months, are clearly in love, and that moving in together just seems to be the logical next step forward. I mean, if we're gonna get married someday, we'd better get used to living under the same roof, right?"

It was the response Darcy had been dreading. She had long since stopped laughing, and now swallowed heavily. "Is this what you want, truly? Is it important to you?"

Ian smiled at her rather confusedly. "Well, _yes._ Of course. I love you, Darcy Gabrielle Lewis. I think . . . . I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." At this, Ian smiled an excited, embarrassed grin. "So, what do you say to making me the happiest bloke alive?"

But for the first time in the 22 and a half lengthy years of her life, Darcy had no idea what to say, because try as she might, she could not picture a future of domestic bliss with Ian. Even an eternity of fighting Dark Elves with a mouthy Loki at her side seemed like a far more desirable alternative. But if Ian wanted the opposite, what was she supposed to do? Say yes, move in with him, and be miserable? No, that wouldn't be fair to her. Say maybe and keep him holding on to the hope that one day she'd change her mind, when she knew full well that she wouldn't? No, because how in the hell would that be fair to Ian? Darcy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as the third and final option became apparent. She would have to answer no and then see where the chips fall.

"Ian, I love you, too, but . . . ." she began awkwardly.

Ian's excited grin faded immediately. "'But' . . . what?"

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of how to best word this without insulting Ian. Once she had decided what she was going to say, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. "It's just . . . we have such a great thing going right now, why would we wanna compromise it by moving in together?"

"But how do you know moving in together will make it worse and not better?"

"I just know," Darcy said. "I'm sorry."

Ian sighed, and although it was evident he was trying, he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice when he said, "It's all right. We'll just have to wait until you're ready, that's all."

A burning sensation settled just behind Darcy's eyes, and she couldn't blink it away. "But that's the thing, Intern . . . . I'll never be ready . . . . At least, not with you . . . ."

"What . . . . What're you saying, Darce?" Ian asked, his eyes suddenly wide, his lips parted in apprehension as he stared at her.

But even Darcy herself didn't know what she was saying. She loved Ian, of course she did, but, she realized dejectedly, she would never want to commit to him permanently. And what was the point of continuing a relationship that would never become that strong, when that was exactly what the other half wanted? It wouldn't be fair to Ian, and the guilt would eat her alive. She knew, then, what she had to do, but she also knew, with the whole of her being, that she didn't want to do it. But just when she found herself ready to give in to her doubts and to actually reconsider her not wanting to move in with Ian, she was overcome by a memory, the memory of the dream she had had last night. She had known that Derek had been in it—his face had been the only thing she had remembered, up until now—but now, she remembered the rest. She had dreamt of the worst moment of her life, when Derek had gotten down on one knee and asked her to be his wife, though, for all the sincerity in his voice, he might as well have been asking her if she wanted to do his taxes. But then, Derek's face had slowly morphed into Ian's, and shocked, Darcy had woken up.

Now, the memory of the dream helped her steel herself to do what she knew was necessary, and so, feeling her bottom lip quiver despite her newfound resolution, she looked Ian evenly in the eyes and said, "I think I'm breaking up with you."

The look on Ian's face just about broke her heart, but she forced herself to keep holding his gaze, using every remaining ounce of her will to keep the tears threatening to spill for the second time today at bay. _Don't cry, Darce. If you cry, you'll only make it worse._

"Don't do this to me, Darce, please," Ian said, his own eyes welling with water. "We just need to give it some time. I'll wait for you. I can wait . . . ."

"I can't ask you to wait for me forever," Darcy said, feeling her face break. _Don't cry, Darce. Whatever you do, don't cry._ "Not when I know I'll never feel about you the same way you feel about me."

"Is it something I did, then? Something about who I am? Just tell me what is it, and I swear, I'll change. Whatever you want, I'll do it."

Darcy smiled miserably, her heart breaking all over again. "Ian, you are the kindest, sweetest, most caring, most loyal guy that I have ever met. A girl would be stupid not to want to be with you. But I'm . . . I'm not like other girls. I'm kind of . . . crazy."

Ian smiled back at her, just as miserably, two tears escaping the pools of his eyes. "I know. Why do you think I fell in love with you?"

Her lip quivering uncontrollably, Darcy realized that there was nothing more she could say that wouldn't only make things worse. So, getting out of bed, she picked up her clothes from the floor beside it and got dressed, in silence. She couldn't bear to look at Ian, not until the very end.

When she was ready to leave, she turned to Ian one final time. He was sitting up in bed, watching her. His eyes were wet.

"Goodbye, Intern," Darcy said quietly.

"Bye, Darce," said Ian, and his voice was strangely cold, his gaze dismissive.

Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, Darcy ran out of the room.

She left Ian's town house feeling very numb. She didn't want to go home, because it was only early afternoon and Jane, Thor, and Erik wouldn't be home until late evening, and the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with Loki. But she didn't have anywhere else to go, nor any of her things on her. No wallet, no bus pass, no cell phone. So she just started walking. Somewhere. Anywhere.

After an hour or so, she made it to the River Thames, just on the opposite side of the Palace of Westminster. She walked halfway across Westminster Bridge and stayed there, watching the river and boats below, the neverending traffic beside her, and the crowds of people around the great, beautiful palace in front of her. All the noise and activity was oddly relaxing.

Soon enough, however, the cold and her hunger—Darcy hadn't eaten all day—had become impossible to ignore, and Loki or no Loki, Darcy knew that she had to go home.

By the time she got back to her apartment building, she was exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. All she wanted was a warm meal, a large mug of herbal tea, and, then, a long, uninterrupted rendezvous with her pillow. But right off the bat, she was presented with a complication: Having left her keys back in the apartment, she had no way of getting inside the building.

She was about to buzz the apartment—she still didn't want to talk to Loki, but she didn't see how she had any other choice—when a middle-aged man checking his mail inside the lobby took notice of her, standing just on the other side of the glass door. He looked concerned by her appearance, and Darcy realized that she must look like a train wreck right now. But surprisingly, that actually managed to work in her favor, as the gentleman then went and kindly opened the door for her.

"You okay, dear?" he asked, as Darcy stalked past him gloomily.

"Yup," Darcy lied, going to summon the elevator.

The gentleman didn't ask any more questions and allowed Darcy to take the elevator up in solitude, which she was grateful for. Finally reaching her apartment door, she found that it had been left unlocked, and so, with a huge wave of relief, she pushed it open and went inside.

"_Darcy!_" screeched a voice, when Darcy had barely taken one step inside the apartment. Jane was rushing at her, and before Darcy could even understand what was happening, she had thrown her arms around her and was squeezing the life out of her. "_I was so worried!_"

Darcy looked around the room in utter confusion. Both Thor and Erik were there, as well as Loki. But Jane, Thor, and Erik hadn't been supposed to return until much later tonight . . . .

"Jane, what're you guys doing back already?" Darcy wheezed, feeling like her lungs were about to collapse.

Finally, Jane let go of her. "Stark," she said. "As soon as Loki called us and told us what happened, Stark had us flown back here by his personal jet."

Darcy gaped at her. "_You didn't tell him about the Elves, Jane?_"

"Fear not, Darcy," said Thor, stepping forward. "We made sure to provide Tony with a different reason for the need of our urgent and immediate departure."

"Unfortunately . . ." Jane began, suddenly looking very sheepish, ". . . the best we could come up with was that you'd fallen down the stairs and broken your leg."

"Gee, thanks," Darcy said sarcastically.

"But it's hardly worse than what actually happened!" Jane cried out, and before Darcy could protest, she was squeezing the daylights out of her again. "Can you imagine! Dark Elves? _Here?_"

"Jane, it's okay," Darcy choked. "I'm all right, really."

But when Jane let go of her again, she didn't look convinced. "Loki told us you almost _died_, Darcy," she said, and Darcy realized that there were actual tears in her eyes. "And then when he said you just walked out . . . . _Where did you go?_"

"Ian's," Darcy said quickly. _Where I proceeded to break his heart. Proceeded to throw away possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me._

She remembered too late that her face had always been an open book, because the next moment, Jane was asking, "Did . . . . Did something happen at Ian's?"

"He asked me to move in with him . . . ." Darcy answered.

"Oh!" Jane said, with a smile, though Darcy was able to catch the momentary shadow of disappointment on her face. "That's . . . great! And . . . . And what did you say?"

But once again, Darcy found herself unable to speak. Jane, Thor, and Erik were all watching her with bated breaths, and surprisingly, it appeared that so was Loki. Completely against her volition, her bottom lip began to tremble again.

"_I broke up with him,_" she spluttered suddenly, as the pain she hadn't even known she'd been harboring washed over her in an unprecedented wave of emotion. An onslaught of spontaneous tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she wiped at them angrily.

"Oh, sweetie . . . ." Jane said, and Darcy found herself being hugged for the third time in ten minutes, though much more gently this time.

And for a good thirty seconds, Darcy could do nothing more than sob uncontrollably into Jane's shoulder. She was aware that a warm hand had come to light on her arm in that time, and was now squeezing it gently, but since her eyes were shut tight against her own tears, she didn't know who, other than Jane, was comforting her.

Once she had stopped crying, however, feeling, she had to admit, immensely better, she opened her eyes to Thor's deeply sympathetic, solemn gaze.

"I am truly sorry, Lady Darcy . . ." he told her somberly, ". . . but if I am being perfectly honest—and I think that I speak for everyone here—I am also madly happy that you are not leaving us."

"You got that right," said Erik, who had also approached Darcy and was now smiling at her kindly.

It was exactly what Darcy had needed to hear. She grinned at Thor and Erik, and then let go of Jane and smiled around at the three of them.

"You know how much I love you guys, right?" she asked, looking blearily from Jane to Thor to Erik and continuing to smile. "I know I don't show it much, but you guys know, right?"

"_Of course_ we do," Jane said, while Thor and Erik nodded. "And what's this nonsense about not showing it?"

"Oh, please, Jane," Darcy said, and her smile turned slightly guilty. "I can _so_ be a selfish bitch sometimes, and you know it. But I'm gonna work on it." And even before Jane could answer, Darcy had an idea. "And I'm gonna start off by giving you and Thor your bedroom back," she said firmly.

Jane and Thor stared at her in surprise, a mixture of happiness and confusion on their faces.

"But . . ." Jane began uncertainly, ". . . where're you going to sleep?"

"I'll move into the not-living room," Darcy said quickly, before she could change her mind.

"But that is our entertainment room!" Thor exclaimed immediately. "You love that room, Darcy!"

This was true, and Darcy knew that Thor loved it, too (not that he obviously wouldn't love sharing the master bedroom with Jane again even more), and this was exactly why Darcy had already thought of the solution.

"Don't worry, Thunder Wonder—I have it all figured out," she said, and then turned to Jane. "You know that money we've been saving up for beds for Thor and I?"

"Of course," Jane said. "In fact, I think we should have enough for one now. So if you're seriously willing to move into the living room, we can go get you a bed as soon as tonight. If you want."

The corners of Jane's mouth twitched, and Darcy knew she was holding back one hell of a grin right now. And no wonder, considering that originally, back when Loki had first arrived at their apartment, transforming the not-living room into a bedroom had been Jane's idea. Darcy had just been too stubborn back then to realize it would've actually been the smartest call to make.

"That's perfect," she said to Jane now. "Except for one small thing. I don't want a bed. Not a regular one, anyways. Get me a sofa bed or a futon instead. I'll have it folded up during the day, so Thor and I will have our entertainment room, and at night, it'll be my bedroom."

Thor looked excited. Jane looked undeniably pleased.

"Yes, of course," she said. "You can put anything you want in your room, Darce."

"Are you absolutely certain of this, though, Darcy?" Thor asked.

Darcy grinned at the thunder god's slightly worried face. "A hundred percent," she said. "Maybe now you'll start hanging out with me in the mornings again, instead of going to Jane and leaving me all alone. I miss my Thor time."

Thor looked simultaneously guilty and flattered, and, deciding she's embarrassed him enough, Darcy continued. "And yes, I wanna go get the sofa bed or futon today, if that's okay with you guys. I think it'll help us us take our minds off everything that's happened today. But _first_ we need to decide what to do with the five, uhhh, _guests_ we have suntanning up on the rooftop. We can't very well leave them there for management to find."

"Actually, Darce . . ." Jane began, with an oddly sickened expression on her face, ". . . the bodies have already been taken care of . . . ."

"Huh? How?" Darcy said. As far as she was aware, they didn't have garbage bags that big. Or a chainsaw. Or a bathtub-ful of acid.

"Loki . . . teleported them . . . ." Jane continued, looking even more sickened.

Darcy gaped at her. "Teleported them _where_?"

"To the bottom of your River Thames," Loki informed her conversationally from the other side of the room. "Their armor should weigh them down nicely until they have decomposed sufficiently enough so as not to float to the surface."

Darcy now understood why Jane looked so disgusted. Trying to force the mental image of five rotting, slimy Elf bodies lying on the Thames riverbed out of her head, "That's . . . awesome," she said queasily. "And highly disturbing."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It's rude, you know, to run out on somebody mid-conversation."

Darcy, who, having finally eaten, showered, and changed into clean clothes, was busy spreading fresh linens over her new sofa bed in the old not-living room (now her new bedroom), looked up and turned toward the source of the voice behind her.

Loki stood in her doorway, leaning against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. If he was trying to get some extreme reaction out of her, she was simply too exhausted to give it to him.

"It's also rude to flirt with a girl who's taken," she pointed out dully, returning her attention to her bedsheets.

"Yes, but you aren't '_taken_' anymore, are you, Little Mortal?" Loki asked, and there was something akin to triumph in his voice.

Darcy froze, clutching the edge of her comforter so hard, her hands trembled.

"Sorry," Loki said immediately, to Darcy's immense surprise. "I did not mean to—"

"I'm not in a good talking mood right now, Jazz Hands," Darcy said, cutting him off. "And I'm going to bed." To bring her point home, she plopped down backward onto the unfolded sofa bed and shut her eyes.

"You may dislike me more for saying this," she heard Loki's voice several moments later, "but you ought to know that your Ian sounded painfully boring and utterly bland. He was not worthy of you."

Darcy snorted, continuing to keep her eyes closed. "Oh, yeah?" she muttered bitterly. "Then who is, according to you? And for the love of all that is holy, don't say yourself."

When Loki's silence had lasted for more than thirty seconds, Darcy opened her eyes and lifted her head from her pillow. But the room was empty. Loki had gone, shutting the bedroom door behind himself. Darcy took off her glasses and put them on the bedside table, turned off her bedlamp, crawled underneath her comforter, and then let her head hit her pillow once more. The most glorious sensation washed over her as her sore, tense, tired body finally relaxed, and in mere moments, she had fallen into the sweet repose of deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Ding dong, Ian's gone. }:D**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello, all! On the menu tonight are "science", family "bonding", and Darcy contemplating the phenomenon that is Loki Odinson. ;D**

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The first week of June brought with it some of the shittiest weather Darcy had seen since she and Jane had moved to London. Not only had it rained all week, but by Friday night, the weather had escalated to an honest-to-God thunderstorm, one not even Thor could do anything about. Worst of all, however, was the fact that the stormy weather outdoors was a direct reflection of the current mood indoors.

Until three days ago, Jane, Darcy, Loki, and Erik had been hard at work optimizing the search capabilities of the S.E.E.R. computer, and had managed to reduce its search time from two hours to a very acceptable 39 seconds. But then had come the time to start phase two of their Infinity-Stone-tracking-device-thingy project: determining the search parameters for the Aether.

And if determining scientific search parameters for the Tesseract had been hard, then doing the same for the Aether was proving to be nearly impossible, because this time, they didn't have a resident expert feeding them all the information they needed. This time, none of them had the slightest idea of what they were dealing with.

But they did have Jane, and according to Loki, she was the key to the whole operation.

Since Jane had hosted the Aether inside her own body for a good three days, Loki was convinced that it had left a mark, or a "magical signature", as he called it, upon her. He was also certain that should that signature be read, it would provide the team with enough data to create a set of parameters that would allow S.E.E.R. to successfully track the Aether should it ever arrive on Earth.

And when working with a theory that sounded as pseudoscientific as that, Darcy found it completely unsurprising that, for the third day in a row now, they were attempting some of the most voodoo so-called "science" she'd ever seen.

Tonight especially made her feel as if she were in a horror movie, albeit a rather unexciting one, watching as either a very pacifistic exorcism or a fruitless attempt to converse with the dead was being performed, with Loki acting the role of priest or medium, and Jane, the victim.

Everyone, including Thor, was congregated on one side of the computer bar in total silence. Lights and electronics all around the apartment had been turned off to reduce interference with S.E.E.R.'s highly sensitive close-range radiation-analyzing hardware. Indeed, the only light in the entire apartment came either from the S.E.E.R. computer screen or from the occasional bolt of lightning that forked across the raging sky outside and momentarily filled the apartment with ghostly light.

"No readings. Again. Sorry, Jane," Erik said. Of all the people at the computer bar, he was the only one who looked like he was doing something even remotely scientific. He sat on the far left of the bar, facing the S.E.E.R. monitor, which currently displayed a live self-updating line graph with seconds creeping along the _x_-axis and with the _y_-axis denominated by hundreds of thousands of becquerels. The line was quivering at the one-hundred-thousand-becquerel mark, as it had done all night.

"That is because there was nothing to read. Again," Loki growled. "Whenever you are ready, Dr. Foster."

"I'm ready," Jane said, though she sounded far from it. She put down the glass of water she had just drained and turned back to Loki. They sat along the computer bar to Erik's right, but rather than face the bar, they faced each other.

And as had been the procedure for what had probably been twenty attempts by now, Loki put his elbows down on his knees and held out his hands, palms up. He had rolled up the sleeves of his tunic prior to beginning the experiment earlier this afternoon, and now, it was possible for Jane to reach out and take a firm hold of his bare wrists. Loki, in turn, grasped Jane's wrists, also bare, and, frozen in this strange ritualistic pose, the two of them shut their eyes.

According to Loki, all that needed to happen now was for Jane to concentrate on the memory of having the Aether inside her, to awaken its magical signature within her, so that Loki could use his magic to channel it into his own body and then emit its ghost in a faint burst of radiation to be read by S.E.E.R.

_Yeah._

No wonder it wasn't fucking working.

Within a couple of minutes, Loki was emanating that same tangible aura of power that Darcy had felt around him a couple of other times that he had performed magic. Darcy wondered what it was like to be in physical contact with him at such a moment, but then realized that Jane's current state was as good an indicator of the answer as any. After three days of these experiments, Jane was burned out, both physically and psychologically. This was the reason that Darcy and Thor were present now. There was no part for them in the experiments; they were here simply as Jane's moral support.

"_Concentrate_, Dr. Foster," Loki growled through clenched teeth. "You must concentrate on the memory of the Aether, on how it felt to have it pulsing through your veins. _Concentrate . . . ._"

The connection between them was growing so powerful, Jane's hands were beginning to tremble slightly. Darcy shot a look of concern at Thor, who looked back at her just as apprehensively. Suddenly, Jane emitted a small sound like a whimper and winced, as though in pain.

Immediately, Thor's hand was on Jane's shoulder, but whatever comfort he may have been trying to provide her with backfired royally. Jane cried out in actual pain this time, and she and Loki let go of each other's wrists so fast, it was as if Thor had sent an electric shock through their bodies when he had touched Jane's shoulder.

"_ARE YOU JOKING, YOU OAF?_" Loki bellowed at his brother, as Jane slumped backward against Thor, breathing heavily. "_YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE USED A CATTLE PROD._"

But Thor did not appear to have heard any of that, as Darcy and he fumbled over Jane.

"Are you all right, my love?" Thor asked her, looking slightly terrified.

"Do you want more water?" Darcy said, having absolutely no idea what to do.

Jane shook her head at Darcy's question and then finally opened her eyes. "I'm okay, guys," she said weakly, straightening up on her stool. "But . . . Sweetheart . . ."—she looked up at Thor—". . . maybe don't do that again?"

"But I do not know what I did!" Thor exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Words spoken by a true idiot," Loki said scathingly. "You may forget that you possess magic of your own, Brother, as surprising as it is. Those tricks you do with the thunder and the lightning aren't exactly what I would call Asgardian standard issue. And when I am attempting to channel even the vaguest _hint_ of magic from Jane's body into my own and you go and touch her with that beastly radioactive thing you call a hand, how do you think an energy surge like that will feel?"

"Oh," Thor said guiltily.

Loki placed his face in his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Whenever you are ready, Dr. Foster."

Jane nodded, murmuring, "Just . . . . Just give me a sec."

"Wait . . . ." Darcy began, not sure if Loki had been kidding or not.

"My love," Thor said to Jane, casting a disapproving look at his brother, "do you not think we have tried enough for tonight?"

Jane, being the workaholic that she was, looked as if she didn't know what to say.

"I agree with Thor, Jane," Erik said. "Tonight can't be very good for the experiment, anyway. All that radiation from the thunderstorm is probably interfering with our equipment and that can very well be the reason why we aren't seeing any results."

"Yeah, what Thunder Wonder and Erik said," Darcy chimed in, deciding that Loki had been serious after all. "You really don't look so good. I say go to bed. Hell, maybe even take the day off tomorrow."

Loki let out a vehement scoff. "'Day off', Little Mortal? _'Day off'?_ When there is an enemy at large who has done nothing but continually grown stronger? When he is devoting every waking moment of every day and all his considerable resources to the finding and acquisition of the very weapons that will destroy us? Taking all this into account, are you truly propositioning that we take a _'day off'_ and simply _grant_ him an additional day to add to the already considerable lead that he has on us? Do you think _he_ takes days off?"

"First off," Darcy snapped, "I am not _'propositioning'_ you or anyone, Jazz Hands. Secondly, I'm sure taking _one_ day off isn't gonna screw us over. And thirdly, I don't buy for a second that Anus doesn't take a day to himself here and there."

"_Who?_" Loki said, his eyes widening.

Darcy sighed impatiently. She'd had a feeling she hadn't pronounced that right. "You know. Anus, dude. The guy who's got all our panties in a twist? _Anus?_"

"_IT IS PRONOUNCED 'THANOS', YOU IMBECILE._"

Loki's outburst startled Darcy into momentary silence, but the next moment, she was spitting, "_Who're you calling an imbecile, you pubic-haired apricot entertainer!_"

"Darcy, don't be rude," Jane snapped.

"_Excuse me?_" Darcy shrieked, feeling as though Jane had just betrayed her to the Nazis. "_He called me an imbecile!_"

Jane, clearly so tired now that she had become grumpy, made a face as though Darcy's voice had hurt her ears and said, "Yes, but he does have a point about you purposefully mispronouncing words. I can't count the number of times I've almost smacked you for saying Large _Hardon_ Collider."

"_Purposefully'?_" Darcy screeched.

"Thank you," Loki said.

"Smacked her, Jane? Really?" Erik asked. He was looking at Darcy with a slightly alarmed expression on his face. "Why does it matter so much that she mispronounces some words here and there anyway?"

"Because, Dr. Selvig, if she one day calls Thanos 'Anus' to his face, he will invariably kill her where she stands," Loki interjected matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yeah?" Darcy snapped. "Unless Anus kills you first for being a major _squid auctioneer_!"

"Enough with the insults, Darcy!" Jane cried out.

"Honestly, Jane, the boy's had them coming," Erik said.

"Insufferable thick-headed mortal," Loki mumbled under his breath.

"Blue-waffle enthusiast!" Darcy retorted.

"I honestly wonder how she made it through college sometimes."

"Well, she did, and she was in the top quarter of her graduating class, in case you don't remember! Darcy _is_ smart, Jane!"

"Stubborn wench."

"Ass guardian."

"_ENOUGH!_"

There was an earsplitting crack of thunder, and the sky right outside the apartment lit up with webs and branches of blindingly white lightning. Once Darcy, Jane, and Erik had finished having their heart attacks, they turned to gape at Thor. And for the first time in her and Thor's time knowing each other, Darcy could feel a Loki-like tangible magical aura emanating from him.

"THAT IS _IT_," Thor thundered on. His massive hands were clenched in fists, and his facial expression was that of a _very_ disappointed parent. "I AM MAKING THIS A _MOVIE NIGHT_."

Darcy did not think she could contest Thor's decision even if she wanted to, and it appeared that neither could Jane. Both of them continued to simply stare at the God of Thunder, their mouths hanging open.

"May I go to bed?" Erik asked politely from the opposite end of the bar.

"Of course," Thor answered, just as politely.

"Thank you," Erik said, getting off his stool. "Good night, everyone." He shuffled off toward his bedroom.

"I'm also going," Loki said, looking up for the first time after his row with Darcy.

"_No_," Thor, Darcy, and Jane said in unison.

"Movie night is tradition in this apartment, Loki," Jane elaborated. "No one is exempt."

"I am sorry, but did you just miss my embarrassment of an adoptive brother granting leave to Dr. Selvig?" Loki said, with mock politeness.

"Erik had you inside his head for a week," Jane said briskly. "He is therefore forevermore exempt from being subjected to something against his will."

Loki opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. Apparently, even he couldn't argue with that logic.

"So what're we gonna watch, Thunder Wonder?" Darcy said to Thor two minutes later, as she and Jane plopped down in the middle of the sofa bed in Darcy's bedroom and Darcy turned on the Blu-ray player.

Thor was rummaging through Darcy's Blu-ray collection, apparently looking for something specific. After about thirty seconds of this, he turned around to face Jane and Darcy, holding up a movie case and sporting a triumphant expression on his face.

From the movie case, two cartoon princesses, two dudes, a reindeer, and a snowman all smiled in varying degrees of sanity. Below them, in big icy letters, was the word "FROZEN".

"Is this the one that you were talking about, Darcy?" Thor asked.

Darcy grinned, nodding. A part of her could not believe that Thor actually remembered her film recommendation from almost three weeks ago, whereas another part could not believe she would legitimately get to watch the movie in the company of Thor and Loki.

"Oh—_Frozen_!" Jane said excitedly. "I've never seen it, but I heard it's very good!"

"Oh . . . it _is_. . . ." Darcy said, failing to suppress a smirk.

Thor inserted the _Frozen_ disk into Darcy's Blu-ray player and sat down beside Jane, and Darcy felt her side of the sofa rise a few inches. Loki, however, remained rooted to where he stood in the doorway.

"Come sit, Brother," Thor called to him, gesturing at the empty spot beside Darcy.

"I am quite fine where I am," Loki answered coolly.

"Do not be ridiculous," Thor said. "Sit, so we can begin the movie."

Loki contemplated Thor's words surlily for a moment, but then finally took a step inside the room. "Whatever makes this mutual humiliation pass faster," he muttered under his breath.

"And close the door behind yourself, will ya?" Darcy called out. "We don't want the noise to wake up Erik!"

Glaring, Loki shut the bedroom door behind himself and sat down on the sofa bed beside Darcy. Darcy noticed that he was trying to sit as far away from her as possible.

With everyone finally settled, Darcy turned on the TV, which turned out to already be playing the main menu of the movie. So, without further ado, Darcy picked up the Blu-ray player remote and pressed play.

"Oh, they're so _cute_," Jane said, just as little Anna was waking little Elsa up in the middle of the night.

"So, that is the queen named Elsa?" Thor asked, looking across Jane at Darcy, a perplexed expression on his face. "How is a little girl comparable to Loki?"

"_What?_" Loki spat immediately. "Why would you even _ask_ that, Brother?"

"You'll see," Darcy said in a mysterious manner, in answer to both brothers' questions.

"Oh! Oh!" Thor was shouting within less than a minute, as little Elsa conjured snow and ice for little Anna's entertainment. "Brother, she is a _Frost Giantess_!"

"That little squirt is _not_ a Frost Giantess," Loki said disinterestedly.

"You were hardly taller than her when you were her age!" Thor continued excitedly. "She _could_ be a Frost Giantess. Or have Frost Giant blood."

"Well, at least she appears to be fully aware of her true identity," Loki said bitterly, and Thor fell silent.

The next few minutes of the movie passed without interruption, until in the middle of "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" Loki, of all people, said, "This Elsa mortal is a coward. Being afraid of using your own gift is a disservice to said gift."

"Oh, yeah?" Darcy said confrontationally. "You telling me you would've continued using your magic even after you'd hurt your sister like that and after your parents had specifically told you not to?"

"Absolutely," Loki replied calmly. "If I had magic I knew about but could not always control, I would not spend my days sulking behind closed doors—I would instead spend those hours practicing my gift, learning to control it, until I had mastered it and could show my parents that I was no longer a danger to my sister or to anyone."

"Yeah, but you say this now, as an adult," Darcy retorted. "I'm pretty sure that if you were a scared little kid, like Elsa is here, you wouldn't have done anything differently."

"Shhh!" Jane hissed at them.

No one spoke for the next little while, everyone completely engrossed in the movie. Or rather, almost everyone. Right around the time "Fixer Upper" finished playing, Darcy became oddly aware of Loki's breathing. It had turned deep and rhythmic, and when, confused, Darcy turned to look at the mischief god in question, she discovered that he had fallen asleep, the back of his head resting against the back of the sofa. Finding this to be exceptionally rude, Darcy was about to elbow Loki in the ribs to wake him, but at that moment, Loki stirred in his sleep and his head lolled onto Darcy's shoulder. Darcy froze.

_Oh, gods. This is too cute. Jazz Hands, you make it too easy._

Very carefully, Darcy reached into her jeans pocket and took out her phone. If she could take a selfie with the embarrassingly adorable sleeping Loki on her shoulder, she could use the threat of posting the photo on the Internet to blackmail him for the rest of her life. And that sounded like a very wonderful possibility indeed.

Activating the phone's forward-facing camera, trying exceptionally hard to make sure Jane wouldn't see what she was doing, Darcy slowly lifted the phone in front of her and Loki's faces. Waiting as the camera focused, she held her thumb impatiently just over the white, circle button and—

"_HANS, YOU BASTARD,_" Thor bellowed, jumping off the sofa in rage.

Thanks to the sudden departure of that extra weight from that end of the sofa, Jane flew into Darcy, Loki awoke and his head snapped up from Darcy's shoulder, and Darcy hastily hid her phone under her thigh.

"I cannot believe he did that to Princess Anna!" Thor raged on, looking as infuriated as Darcy had ever seen him. "He thought she loved him! Now she will die!"

"Oh, Sweetheart . . . ." Jane said gently, straightening herself up on the sofa bed. "I'm sure they'll find some other way to save Princess Anna. Look—I think Olaf has come up with the solution!"

Thor looked back at the TV screen, where Olaf and Anna had just set off to find Kristoff with plans to use his true love's kiss to break Anna's curse. Apparently placated sufficiently by this, the thunder god sank back down on the sofa, though he still crossed his arms in a disgruntled fashion.

"I'm sorry, but did that idiotic snowman just insinuate that the oaf with the reindeer is in love with the Anna princess?" Loki asked, looking at the TV screen with an expression of insulted intelligence on his face.

"Duh," Darcy said. "As if no one saw _that one_ coming."

"But has he not known her for all of one day?" Loki continued.

"About, yeah," Darcy said, now beginning to seriously wonder where Loki was headed with this.

"And did he himself not earlier chastise the Anna princess for thinking that she had fallen in love with a man after having known him for all of a day?"

"_SHHH!_" Jane and Thor hissed simultaneously.

Darcy rolled her eyes and, to her surprise, caught Loki doing the same. They shared a brief look of mutual amusement, smirking.

On the TV, Anna had just sacrificed herself to save Elsa. A hearty sniff sounded from somewhere on Darcy's right, and she wasn't sure if it had come from Jane or from Thor.

"Not too realistic, is it, this tale?" Loki muttered to nobody in particular.

"What do you mean, Brother?" Thor asked quietly, looking over Jane and Darcy's heads at Loki, and Darcy noticed a small, quivering note in his normally booming voice.

"Come on, Thor . . . ." Loki began impatiently. "This Anna mortal barely knows her sister. Why would she give her life for someone who is hardly more than a stranger to her?"

"Because Elsa is her sibling," Thor said meaningfully, continuing to gaze sorrowfully at Loki, "and that is all that matters."

Loki shook his head in defeat and then leaned it back against the back of the sofa bed and shut his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep again, and his head lolled onto Darcy's shoulder once more.

The movie ended, to much praise from Thor and Jane. Darcy, meanwhile, was too busy screaming internally at the cuteness of Loki's having fallen asleep on her shoulder again to have even noticed that the credits had started rolling.

"You were right, Darcy!" Thor said happily, turning to her. "Princess Anna and Queen Elsa's tale truly is—" Thor's eyes landed on Loki. "Oh—Brother. I apologize on his behalf, Darcy. I will rouse him, so you can go to bed." He got up from the sofa bed and took a step toward Darcy and Loki.

Darcy had never growled at anyone before, but she came very close to it at that moment. "_No!_" she snapped instead.

Thor raised his eyebrows at her.

"I mean . . ." Darcy began awkwardly, feeling her face grow hot, ". . . it's okay, Thunder Wonder. I'm gonna be staying up a little longer anyways—I'll wake him up myself when I'm ready to go to bed."

Thor opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment a very sleepy-looking Jane appeared at his side and took his large, broad hand into her small, feminine ones. She leaned her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes, murmuring, "Let's go to bed, Sweetheart. Something tells me Loki won't be giving us a day off tomorrow."

Thor looked from Jane, to Darcy and Loki, and then back to Jane again, and then, finally, nodded. Supporting his semi-sleeping girlfriend around the waist, he led her from Darcy's bedroom and shut the door behind himself.

Darcy turned off the TV and Blu-ray player and withdrew her phone from under her lap. She stared at it for a long moment, then looked at Loki's sleeping face—gods, he looked so innocent—and then, suddenly changing her mind about the blackmail selfie, returned her phone to her jeans pocket.

_Already, Darce?_ a little voice suddenly said accusingly in her head. _Really?_

This voice, which oddly resembled Jane's and which tended to become most vocal when Darcy was either feeling guilty or dealing with a morally difficult situation, Darcy had, over the years, come to suppose was the voice of the small amount of conscience that she knew she possessed.

_Hasn't been three weeks since you dumped the poor boy,_ the voice pressed on. _Don't tell me _he_'s the reason you did it._

Taken aback and slightly insulted by her own musings, Darcy glanced down at Loki's sleeping face. No. She knew it wasn't true. She had broken up with Ian for _herself_, not for anyone else. And although she did care for Loki, she did not have feelings for him.

_So, you _care_ for him?_ the little voice asked disgustedly.

Well, _yes_. She had begun caring for Loki quite unprecedentedly after having talked with him up on the rooftop. This wasn't news to her, so why did her conscience sound so surprised?

_Congratulations, Darcy Gabrielle Lewis. You have just openly admitted to caring for a mass murderer._

Oh.

For a moment, Darcy wanted to shrug Loki's head off her shoulder, but . . . .

Well, that hadn't really been fair. Loki wasn't a mass murderer _anymore_.

She didn't need her conscience to tell her how stupid that had just sounded.

But _was_ it stupid? Did she really believe that Loki was incapable of change?

_He is a monster,_ her conscience said flatly.

Yeah, well, then so is Thor.

_Are you honestly comparing Loki to _Thor_?_

Yes, Darcy was. And why the hell not? There _had_ been a time when Thor had been no less homicidal than Loki. _Geno_cidal, even. He had, with considerable regret, admitted to Jane, Darcy, and Erik that he would have once gladly initiated war with the Frost Giants, even though it could have meant the possibility of the complete annihilation of their kind.

And what about Tony Stark? The dude had devoted most of his life to the invention and manufacture of deadly and destructive weapons that had taken God knows how many lives.

Oh, and what about Natasha Romanoff then? Darcy had never met her, but Thor had said that she had a history and that it was pretty dark.

_Are you saying Loki's actions are excusable?_ the little voice inside Darcy's head asked incredulously. _Because other people have done bad things too?_

Darcy was so frustrated with her conscience by now, she almost yelled out "No!" No one's bad deeds were excusable, least of all Loki's. But what Thor, Tony, and Natasha all so clearly demonstrated was that people _could_ change, and that some so-called "monsters" deserved a chance at redemption.

_So you think Loki deserves a chance to redeem himself?_ Darcy's conscience asked, a little more calmly this time.

There was no denying that Darcy did.

_Even though he is a master manipulator? An adept liar? A skilled killer?_

All very useful traits, if used for good.

_Didn't you once say that you think he'll betray you, Thor, Jane, and Erik the first chance he gets? What the hell happened to _that_ train of thought?_

Darcy knew damn well what had happened. She got to know the complicated son of a bitch.

Her conscience was silent for a while. When it finally spoke again, it sounded almost exasperated. _You want to be his friend, don't you?_

It was such an odd question that Darcy didn't know what to make of it for a second. She had never thought of her relationship with Loki in such simplistic terms before, but now that she had, she supposed that yes, she did want to be his friend (whatever genuine friendship with a dark, brooding Frost Giant even implied). She hoped it would be more experiences like playing video games together, or talking up on the rooftop, or rolling their eyes at Jane and Thor. Yes, she could definitely go for more of that.

She waited for her conscience to give yet another disapproving retort, but surprisingly, it stayed silent. Instead, a sense of calm and self-satisfaction washed over Darcy, and she relaxed against the sofa, listening to Loki's deep, rhythmic breathing.

She was not sure how long they remained like that; all she knew was that she had begun to doze off, when Loki's shifting about brought her back to reality. She looked down at him just in time to see him lift his head from her shoulder and look around the room, blinking slowly. Eventually, he turned his head toward her and gazed at her blearily.

For a moment, Darcy was completely thrown off by the expression in his eyes. There was an utterly unrecognizable tenderness there, which was quickly replaced by surprise, and then embarrassment. And then, just as quickly, Loki's eyes took on the expression of icy aloofness that they normally carried, tinged with undeniable disgruntlement.

_Okay, _now_ I can mess with him,_ Darcy thought to herself brightly. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty," she cooed at the mischief god in the most obnoxiously saccharine tone of voice she could manage. "Had a nice nappy-nap?"

Loki glared at her. "How long was I asleep?"

"Oh, you know . . ." Darcy said, grinning widely, ". . . couple hours? Out like a newborn babe . . . ."

"_Right_," Loki said through gritted teeth. "And why did you not wake me?"

Darcy shook her head innocently. "Couldn't. You looked way too cute."

Loki scowled at her, then rose from the sofa and headed for the bedroom door.

"You look like an angel when you sleep, did you know that?" Darcy called after him in the same oppressively sweet tone.

Loki opened the door, his scowl deepening, and Darcy could swear she heard him mutter "No" stubbornly as he left the room.

_Oh, yes,_ she thought happily. _We're _so_ gonna be besties._

* * *

**Oh, Darcy. If only you knew what you are getting yourself into. *pats Darcy on head***

***EDITED*, because it's "Sleeping Beauty", not "_Sleepy_ Beauty". LOL, fail. :P**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorrynotsorry.**

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"Never have I ever . . . _worn women's clothing_," Darcy said, smirking.

Loki shook his head. "I do not permit you to ask me that."

"Oh,_ really?_" Darcy asked silkily, raising her eyebrows. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Jazz Hands, but the rules of I Never expressly state that one must respond to any statement, no matter how embarrassing or ridiculous it may be, by either partaking of one's alcoholic beverage or by refraining from doing so. One may not simply ignore the statement. Unless, of course, you do not wish to play anymore?"

Darcy finished off her little speech by taking a long, carefree sip from her glass of wine. Loki glowered at her.

They sat on the balcony in chairs they had brought out from the kitchen, in what was likely the nicest night of the summer so far. The air around them was fresh, but not cold; it was windless, but not stuffy. The heavens were clear and starry, but with no visible moon, and with the hour nearing three o'clock in the morning, the sky was a baffling near-black shade of indigo.

At long last, Loki took a sip of wine. Even as Darcy opened her mouth to demand an elaboration, he said, "It is a long story involving myself, Thor, a wedding, and Thor's blasted hammer. That is all that I will say about it."

"_Thor_ was invol-"

"_That is all that I will say about it._ Now. _My_ turn." Loki leaned forward slightly in his chair and surveyed Darcy with utmost scrutiny, the forefinger of his right hand lazily caressing the rim of his wineglass. "Never have I ever been imprisoned," he said finally, leaning back in his chair with a smug look on his face and taking a couple of sips of wine.

"You're kidding, right?" Darcy asked, gaping. "How in the hell could you possibly have known that?"

"Intuition?" Loki suggested smoothly, shrugging.

Her mouth still open slightly, Darcy took a sip of wine.

Loki smiled at her, evidently self-satisfied. "Do tell," he said.

"I spent a night in a holding cell at a local police station back in college," Darcy said proudly. She considered this to be quite the accomplishment.

Loki leaned forward slightly in his chair again. "Go on," he said to her.

"The full story?" Darcy asked excitedly. (It was a good one, and she enjoyed telling it.) "You sure?"

"Positive," Loki said, taking his wineglass into both hands and intertwining his long fingers around the bowl, his ice-blue eyes fixed on Darcy.

"All right," Darcy said, grinning. "I suppose I should start off by saying that this was all my dumbass college friends' fault. Well, mostly their fault. Somewhat. Actually, mostly my fault. But anyways. It was the end of my second year, and my friends got in their heads this genius idea of daring me to break into the office of one of their professors to steal the answers to their upcoming final exam in that same professor's class. And seeing as that sort of shit was what we did for fun back then, I agreed."

Loki was grinning almost as much as Darcy was now. "I must say, you impress me, Miss Lewis," he told her approvingly.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Odinson," Darcy replied, trying not to dwell on how good getting complimented by Loki had just made her feel. "So anyway, it turned out one of the guys from our group had actually already swiped the key to the professor's office on a dare earlier that year, so my dare was supposed to be practically foolproof. Keywords here: '_supposed to_'."

"It always is," Loki interjected, smiling knowingly.

"I had to do it in the middle of the night of course, so I wouldn't get caught," Darcy continued. "But the university closes and kicks everyone out at eleven PM, and all the entrances get locked, so I had to plan ahead. Which actually turned out to be pretty easy. Turned out, the building where the professor's office is has a basement, and I discovered a very dingy little restroom there with a small window just above ground level, opening out onto a thick clump of bushes. Very easy to miss, both from inside and out. So, I left it open. And just as I had hoped, the security guards totally didn't notice.

"So when I returned in the middle of the night, all I had to do was kick in the bug screen, slip through, and I was in. Finding the right office in the dark was actually the most challenging part, but I was prepared for it, so I managed. The key my friend had given me also worked perfectly. What I wasn't prepared for however was to slip into that office and discover that the package of exam answers _wasn't there_. Turned out this professor was one of the smart ones, who took their answer keys home with them, precisely because of people like me."

"And that is when you were seized," Loki concluded, looking highly amused by everything Darcy had told him so far.

"Nope," Darcy said, smiling mischievously.

Loki looked quizzical. "You simply left? Returned home?"

"I left the university, yeah," Darcy said, "but I couldn't just go home empty handed—I would've failed my dare!"

"But you said the item you needed was—"

"At the professor's house, yes . . . which I had found out, after a quick ruffle through the professor's personal documents, was only four blocks away from the university," Darcy finished smugly.

Loki's lips parted slightly, and he leaned back in his chair. "Little Mortal, you are full of surprises," he said to Darcy, definite praise in his voice.

Darcy felt her face flush and knew it was hardly because of the wine. "Yeah, well, here's where the story stops being awesome and kinda just gets really embarrassing instead," she said. "I was able to find the professor's house all right, but I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to get in. So, as a last-ditch attempt at completing my dare, I went and tried the front door. And you have no idea how surprised I was to find that it had been left unlocked.

"Now, that should've been a pretty conclusive sign that I should get out of there, but I was so damn excited that I swung that door open and marched right in. Oh—I suppose I should tell you that I was wearing a purple balaclava on my head against the security cameras in the university and gloves against fingerprints, so I must've been a pretty terrifying sight just then."

"I can only assume that the professor was not asleep," Loki said, looking utterly enthralled by the story at this point.

Darcy smiled fondly. "Nope. God knows what she was doing, but there she was, in the kitchen, at four o'clock in the morning, completely out of fucking nowhere. Guess she was a batshit-crazy workaholic even back then."

Loki's eyes narrowed suddenly. "This . . . 'batshit-crazy workaholic' . . . wouldn't happen to be . . . _Jane_ . . . would she?"

Darcy grinned at him. "How many other batshit-crazy workaholics do you know?"

"By the Allfather . . . ." Loki muttered, laughing and shaking his head.

"I don't know who screamed louder," Darcy went on, still grinning madly. "Honestly, I was terrified. Which is why I panicked, and then, instead of doing the reasonable thing and explaining everything to Jane then and there, I hightailed it out of there. Jane was smart though. She called the police, and—just my luck—there was a patrol car cruising just a block away from her house when she did. Long story short, I was arrested before I could even make it off her street.

"That was when I became _really_ terrified. They told me I was under arrest for trespassing, so I was positive I was facing expulsion from university at best and jail time at worst. Not to mention an unavoidable criminal record.

"And that is how I ended up in a holding cell at the local police station for the night. They allowed me to call whoever I needed to call to inform them of my situation—under strict police supervision of course—so I ended up calling my best friend from the group and probably the smartest of us all, Gie. I briefly and in the vaguest of terms told her that I got arrested for trespassing, how it happened, and where I was now. Of course, I made sure not to mention the fact that I was at Jane's to steal exam answers _or_ the part where I had broken into the university earlier that same night. No need to give the cops a reason to bump up my charges from mere trespassing to double burglary. Well, anyway, Gie asked me for Jane's address and then told me to sit tight until they got there, whoever 'they' were. I was more than happy to oblige, and the cops didn't seem to be in a hurry either. I think they had to wait for Jane to make an official written statement before they could actually process me.

"Now, little did I know, but my friends were currently hard at work trying to get me out of this mess. As I would find out later, they had actually stayed up this entire time waiting for me to get back from my dare, and when I called, they all piled into Gie's car and drove straight to Jane's. Some cops were there, and she was just finishing answering some of their questions, about to be taken to the police station herself, but recognizing her students, she agreed to their request to hear them out in private. And they told her _everything_. Including that I had been supposed to break into the university first _and_ what I had been after. They also admitted to being the biggest dumbasses in the universe, apologized for their unparalleled dumbassery, and promised to never do something that dumb again. Then, they practically begged Jane to help them get me out of custody before I was officially charged with something."

Loki, who had listened with undivided attention to Darcy's every word, shook his head as if in disbelief and said, "If Jane agreed to help you then, she must be as mad as the rest of us."

Darcy grinned again. "Well, at first she was just completely confused by why four of the top students in her class would wanna get someone to steal the answers to the final exam in the first place, and when my friends told her that they hadn't actually been planning to use the answers to cheat, but had just dared me to steal them for the hell of it, well, she—my friends described it to me later—threw her hands up in exasperation, swore loudly, and then kinda just resigned herself to helping me get out of custody.

"But it wasn't as simple as her simply choosing not to press charges. The police had enough evidence to book me for trespassing even without Jane's statement. So, then, Jane did something for me that I still can't completely believe she was capable of."

"What?" Loki asked curiously.

"She _lied_ to the police," Darcy said, nodding gravely.

"_No,_" Loki said, looking appropriately thunderstruck.

"Yes," Darcy replied, continuing to nod ominously. "Well, more like stretched the truth in my favor. She and my friends drove to the police station and 'explained' everything to the officer in charge of my arrest. Basically, she told the officer that it was all just a stupid prank gone awry, that she actually knew me and my friends from the university at which she taught, and that the only reason she hadn't recognized me at her house was because of my dumb balaclava. Once it had become apparent to the officer that Jane knew me personally, there was no longer a case for the police to make against me, and next thing I knew, I was being released from the holding cell and Jane was there, rubbing my shoulder and telling me what a silly girl I was."

"Just like that?" Loki asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Just like that," Darcy said, but then added, "Well, actually . . . not entirely. Jane's help had come with certain . . . compromises. She might have saved us from some really serious consequences with both our university and the law, but she wasn't about to let us get away scot free. She had her own punishment in mind for us."

"Thought so," Loki said, smirking.

"She told my four friends, the ones who had come up with the dare, not to bother showing up to their final exam in her course, which would cause them to flunk it, and to retake the course next year, when they had 'matured into responsible adults'," Darcy said. "As for me, since I wasn't in any of Jane's courses and since I was the one stupid enough to actually _attempt_ the dare, well, Jane had come up with something truly special as _my_ punishment: an unpaid summer internship in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, New Mexico."

"_That_ is how you came to work for Jane?" Loki demanded, looking, Darcy noticed smugly, slightly blown away.

"Yup," Darcy said, with a strong sensation of awesomeness. "That thing Jane always tells people about my being the only applicant is bullshit. She had no applicants. Besides, why would I, a Political Science major, apply for an internship in _Astrophysics_?"

"Good point," Loki agreed, looking out at the stars somewhat longingly. His uplifted eyes reflected that stupefying indigo of the sky like minuscule lashed mirrors, and in this moment, to Darcy, he looked utterly human. She couldn't help but smile.

"You know . . ." she said slowly, ". . . us playing this game, telling each other these stories . . . it technically makes us _friends_, Loki."

Loki looked at her, blinking rapidly, clearly called out of a reverie. He then half-smirked, half-smiled at her. "Whatever you say, Little Mortal."

Darcy continued smiling to herself, swirling the white wine around her glass. Loki could sass her all he wanted, but that wasn't a denial she'd heard . . . .

"It's your turn, in case you've forgotten," Loki said suddenly, calling Darcy out of her own reverie.

"Wha-?" she said.

Loki tapped Darcy's wineglass with his fingernail. "To come up with an I never."

"Oh, right," Darcy said quickly and began racking her brain for ideas.

But truth be told, they had now been playing this game for so long that they had long since exhausted their supply of straightforward I nevers such "Never have I ever been off planet" or "Never have I ever battled a Jotun ice beast" and have since then entered the land of far more obscure, far more difficult-to-think-of questions. Darcy was therefore currently finding it extremely difficult to think of an acceptable I never.

The idea came to her so suddenly, she had to mask the spontaneous giggle that it elicited from her with a cough. The I never she had come up with was probably as far from acceptable as one could get, but she had a feeling Loki would find it funny. As long as she could keep a straight face while delivering it.

Darcy allowed her facial expression to darken into one of sudden gravity. She scooted forward in her seat and leaned as closely as she could toward Loki while still remaining seated in her chair. She looked the mischief god dead in the eyes. Then, in a low, quiet voice, she whispered, "Never have I ever . . . killed someone."

For a moment, Loki just stared at her. But then, he leaned forward as well, until his and Darcy's faces were less than a foot apart. His eyes had turned stormy, and his face had paled, and he whispered back, in a voice that shook slightly, "Do you not think, Miss Lewis, that you have finally crossed a line? That this is one subject simply too dark and painful for me to discuss?"

For several long seconds, they struggled to unwaveringly hold each other's gaze. But the mirth inside Darcy was becoming so difficult to restrain, she could hardly breathe and her eyes were beginning to water. Loki, too, appeared to be having trouble, and had developed a persistent twitch in the corner of his mouth. Soon, Darcy was biting down hard on her lower lip, Loki's whole body had begun to physically shake with concentration, and then, finally, they found themselves unable to hold back any longer, and both positively roared with laughter.

There were tears running down Darcy's face when she and Loki finally finished laughing. Both drained their glasses, and Darcy proceeded to replenish them with the remainders of the white wine from the bottle from which they have been partaking all night. She placed the empty bottle down on the floor of the balcony, and when she looked up again, she found Loki looking at her rather peculiarly.

She had seen him look at her this way before, with such a strange expression, like he was seeing her for the first time or something. Normally, however, he'd snap out of it a second later, but this time, he just kept watching her, looking like he was genuinely surprised about something. Darcy tried to think of something to say or do that would bring him out of this strange trance.

"Uhhh . . . ." she began awkwardly. "For my real I never though . . . ." She cleared her throat, thinking hard. _Come on, Darce. _Anything_ will do, really._ And then she had it. And it was a good one too. How had neither of them thought to ask this already? "Never have I ever been _in_ _loooove_, Jazz Hands," Darcy cooed at Loki, grinning mischievously.

Loki jumped so hard at her words, his wine sloshed out of his glass and onto the floor of the balcony, but he appeared to have hardly noticed. Instead, he continued to simply stare at Darcy, looking even more dumbfounded than before, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Jazz . . . you okay?" Darcy asked, feeling genuinely worried now.

Loki shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, and by the time he had opened his eyes again, his expression had thankfully returned to normal.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and, remembering the I never she had just given Loki, drank once from her glass. Loki meanwhile remained quite motionless, discounting a small smirk beginning to curve the corners of his mouth.

"Do I need to repeat the question, Lokes?" Darcy asked, after several seconds of this.

"Not at all," Loki answered, his smirk becoming more defined.

"You can't be serious . . . ." Darcy said, in utter disbelief.

"I am," Loki replied simply.

"_Never?_" Darcy demanded.

"Never."

"But . . . you're a goddamned _prince_!" Darcy spluttered. "And you're . . . well . . . hot!" she added, suddenly feeling disinclined to meet Loki's eye. "Surely there're chicks all over the Nine Realms who had been in love with you, before you, you know, went crazy and evil and stuff!"

Loki actually chuckled as he shook his head. "I've had many a suitor in my days of glory, yes, all of whom professed their eternal and undying love for me. But to mistake their infatuation for real love would have been foolish, so no, Little Mortal, I have never been in love."

"But you're like . . . a thousand," Darcy said quietly. "That's . . . a bit depressing."

"Not at all," Loki said brightly. "After all, love is not prerequisite to pleasure. And pleasure is something I have never had trouble acquiring. Speaking of which, my next I never: Never have I ever been with a woman."

Darcy was surprised to find Loki looking at her with obvious expectation on his face, and raised her eyebrows at him, her wineglass immobile in her hand.

"Really?" Loki asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Sorry . . . to disappoint?" Darcy began uncertainly, furrowing her eyebrows. "I mean sure, women are hot as fuck, but that doesn't mean I wanna be inside one."

Loki shrugged. "Suit yourself." He then proceeded to down his entire glass of wine in one go.

"That's disgusting," Darcy said, fairly certain she knew what Loki was implying. But then again, she realized, two could play at _this_ game. "Fine, God of Putting Out," she said, glaring, "here's one for you then: Never have I ever been _with a man_." Keeping her eyes defiantly on Loki the entire time, she then brought her wineglass to her lips and drained its contents with gusto, before bringing the empty glass down onto the parapet with a loud _clink_ and exclaiming, "_College, baby!_"

Loki just gazed at Darcy amusedly, completely unperturbed.

Disappointed at having received such an underwhelming reaction to her own admission of promiscuity, Darcy sought other ways to unsettle Loki. She nodded down at his wineglass, which had not been drunk from. "You know, I'm actually totally surprised you didn't drink," she said casually, and then eagerly awaited Loki's reaction.

The corner of Loki's mouth quirked. "I suppose now I have no choice but to point out that we are out of wine."

"What are you . . . ?" Darcy began, but then remembered: She had emptied the bottle of wine when she had topped up her and Loki's wineglasses a few minutes ago, and now she and Loki have drained their glasses. They really _were_ out of wine. "Oh, shit, you're right," she said disappointedly.

"I suppose it is for the best," Loki said dismissively, placing his empty glass on top of the parapet. "It is quite late, and we have a challenging day tomorrow. Deciphering our newly acquired Aether data will not be an easy task to tackle."

Loki's strange and unprecedented desire to get to bed made Darcy immediately suspicious. And then she realized something. "Hold on . . . ." she said slowly, as Loki picked up the empty wine bottle and got out of his chair. "What if we _had_ had wine left? Would you have drunk then?"

Loki smirked at her mysteriously. "I am under no obligation to answer that," he said.

Darcy jumped out of her chair too, trying to think of some loophole that would force Loki to answer her, her curiosity killing her. "Oh, yes, you are! My I never was perfectly valid, and as the rules of I Never expressly state, you must either provide a response to it or suffer the shame and cowardice of forfeiting!"

"Oh, but you are wrong, Little Mortal," Loki said sagely. "Because, as you must surely recall telling me, the rules of I Never also expressly state that a game is considered finished when all, or all but one, participants have entirely consumed their supply of alcoholic beverage. I no longer had a supply of wine when you gave your I never. Therefore, your I never was _not_ valid, as it was given after the game had already finished. And one cannot forfeit a finished game."

For a good several seconds, Darcy was speechless. She had no idea how she was supposed to argue with what Loki had just said, but simultaneously, she just could not allow him to simply walk away, and never know whether her occasional Loki-Fandral fantasies could actually have happened in reality.

But Loki was smirking at her and turning for the balcony door. If Darcy didn't think of something now, her opportunity might be lost forever.

"Wait!" she called at the back of Loki's head.

Loki stopped and turned back around to face her, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"There is . . . an extended version of the rules . . . which I've failed to mention to you," Darcy said, hoping Loki wouldn't realize she'd kind of been making these rules up as she'd gone along.

"Go on," Loki said, looking amused.

"Well . . . you see . . . the game doesn't necessarily _have_ to end when the alcohol runs out," Darcy said, trying her best to sound like she hadn't just come up with this a moment earlier. "If the players so wish, the game may alternatively be placed on hold long enough for a booze run to be made."

"Oh?" Loki said, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. "And are you offering to embark on said 'booze run' yourself?"

"And what if I am?" Darcy said defiantly, sticking out her chin.

"Well, then I must ask you where you plan on buying alcohol at such an hour," Loki said, his eyes continuing to twinkle in amusement.

"The supermarket's open twenty-four seven," Darcy said, remembering this fact very suddenly. _Holy shit, this might actually work._

The twinkle in Loki's eyes subsided slightly. "And is it safe to go? Alone? At this time of night?"

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise. Somehow, this was not the reaction she had expected to hear. "You know, if you're _worried_ about me, Loki," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes, "you _can_ just come with me."

Loki snapped out of it immediately. "You fate does not concern me, mortal," he said disinterestedly.

Darcy smirked. "That's what I thought. But I'll be all right—I've done this before. You just stay on the main streets where the lights are. Even in the dead of night there're normally people and cars passing by all the time. And I'll bring my Taser with me, just in case," she added with a wink.

"Do as you please," Loki said, proceeding into the apartment with the empty wine bottle. "But know there is no guarantee that I will still be up by the time you return."

"What?" Darcy exclaimed, hurrying after Loki inside the apartment. "That's not fair! Promise me you'll stay up until I get back!"

Loki placed the wine bottle into the box of recyclables in the kitchen and turned to face Darcy again, contemplating.

"Half an hour," he said finally. "I suppose I can stay up and do some work on the Aether for half an hour."

"_Half an hour?_" Darcy began confrontationally. "But that will definitely not be enough—"

"Clock's ticking," Loki said happily, his mouth twitching as he failed to conceal a smirk.

Darcy glowered at him, but, recognizing the futility of her continuing to argue, turned on her heel and dashed off to her bedroom nevertheless. Once there, she pulled an old shoebox from under the sofa bed and opened it to reveal a very dusty loaded black Taser gun and a spare Taser cartridge, equally dusty. Of course, she knew full well that simply possessing, let alone _using_, a Taser without a permit was illegal in this country, but she figured that a fine and/or jail time would be a welcome alternative to what could otherwise happen if she ever found herself in a situation warranting the use of the gun. So, taking both the Taser and the extra cartridge, she shoved them in her purse, swung her purse over her shoulder, and then ran back out into the main living area.

Loki had already settled himself at the S.E.E.R. computer and was typing up what looked like lines of code. "Twenty-eight minutes," he informed Darcy without looking up.

Darcy scoffed at his back and then dashed into the hallway, threw on a pair of running shoes, and flew out the door.

The walk to the supermarket wasn't a long one, even without cutting through alleys, as Darcy normally did during the day. Ten minutes there, ten minutes back, with eight minutes to spare for the actual store. And unless there was a freak middle-of-the-night lineup at cash, Darcy did not see how she would spend eight minutes there.

Feeling quite confident that she would be able to get back on time now, Darcy walked briskly down the brightly lit London street. A few familiar faces passed her, some she knew to be avid night owls and others she was pretty sure were drug dealers, but all of them completely harmless.

"'Ello, Darcy," said a familiar raspy voice as she passed the entrance to a subway station. A long-haired homeless man stood leaning comfortably against a lamppost beside it. He looked uncannily like the lead singer of U2.

"Oh, hey, Bono!" Darcy said brightly, smiling. "Didn't see you there!"

"All good, milady," the man called Bono said. "Now, listen," he continued, stepping toward Darcy. "Just got an order in yesterday, you see. Very good stuff, I heard. Could give you a discount, you know. Sweetest girl this part of town, you are."

"Aw, thanks, Bono," Darcy said sincerely. "But I'm in a bit of a hurry, so not tonight, okay?"

"Very well, milady," Bono rasped, inclining his head toward Darcy in a reverent bow. "You have yourself a g'night, eh?"

"Thanks, you too, Bono," Darcy said, and then continued on her way.

No one else stopped her to talk to her as she walked down the street toward where it intersected a larger street that would bring her to the supermarket, but she did pass a group of rather disgruntled looking, loudly swearing teenagers heading in the opposite direction. As they shoved past her, hands deep in the pockets of their baggy sweatshirts in true moody-teenager fashion, she thought she heard one of them mutter, "Bloody construction," angrily to his buddy.

The next moment, Darcy found herself thinking the exact same thing. Having cleared the throng of teenagers, she had come face to face with a tall orange fence, barricading the street from one side to the other. Beyond it was an overturned mess of pavement and sidewalk, a parked excavator, and a large pyramid of sewer-pipe segments. And just on the other side of the blocked-off portion of street, Darcy could see the traffic lights of the intersection that she needed to get to.

"Well, fuck," Darcy said. She spun on the spot, looking about for the shortest way around the construction area, but it appeared that all the possible detours would take her at least a block out of her way, and she just wasn't sure if she had that kind of time to spare. There was another option that was available to her however: a long and rather shady-looking alley between two warehouses on her right, which would bring her to a parallel street and would allow her to reach the supermarket in even less time than the main streets would.

If it were daytime, there would be no question for Darcy if she should take the alley or not. But it was night, and the alley was poorly lit and deserted, and a small voice inside Darcy's head was already reminding her of what her mother had once said about what happened to young ladies who chose to stray down dark alleys in the middle of the night.

_Oh, please,_ Darcy thought in response to the little voice, and was somewhat surprised to realize that her own inner voice sounded slightly drunk. _She only said that because she didn't like me going out with my friends in the evenings._

_That doesn't mean it's not true!_ said the first voice affrontedly.

_Uhuh,_ Darcy thought, unconvinced. _Like something's _actually_ gonna happen to me if I walk down that alley._

_You never know!_ the small Jane-like voice exclaimed desperately. _Is that a chance you're honestly willing to take?_

_Uh, yeah,_ Darcy thought impatiently. _Or are you forgetting that a certain gorgeous alien prince might be _bisexual_?_

_You're _drunk_, Darcy,_ the little voice said strictly. _You're not thinking clearly._

_Yeah, well,_ Darcy thought, feeling severely annoyed by her pesky conscience by now, _who needs clear thinking when you've got a Taser in your purse?_ And with that, she held her head high and strode into the mouth of the shadowy alley.

Like seriously, her conscience could be such a nag sometimes, Darcy thought to herself grumpily as she marched along the grimy, litter-strewn alley. Like walking down a dumb old alley was going to put her in mortal danger. She'd done way more dangerous stuff than this before. Like broken into a school, broken into Jane's house, tased Thor, been there when Loki had torn Puente Antiguo a new one with his metal rage monster, been there when the Dark Elves had attacked Greenwich, put glue in Loki's hair, impaled a—

It happened so quickly that at first Darcy didn't even know exactly what _had_ happened. All she knew was that one moment she had been walking down the alleyway minding her own business, and the next she had been shoved aside unceremoniously and there was now a man sprinting away from her, carrying her purse.

Several thoughts now flashed through her mind in quick succession: She'd just been mugged. But hey, at least no stereotypes had been promoted, as, judging by the exposed back of the mugger's shiny, bald head, he was very much white; but why was she even thinking this now anyway? Oh, Christ, her purse was gone_._ But—she checked—her phone was still in her jeans pocket, thank God. _Her purse was gone!_ What did she have in her purse? Tampons—an umbrella—a pack of gum—lots of wrappers and other nondescript garbage—_her wallet_. Shit. What was in her wallet? A twenty-pound bill. Her debit card. IDs. Well, she didn't care much about losing the twenty pounds, and her debit card could be deactivated and her IDs reported stolen. Now that she thought about it actually, the skinhead hadn't really lucked out in mugging her at all. _OH, FUCK, HER TASER!_ No, no, no, no, _no_! By far her favorite, and currently irreplaceable, object she possessed, gone forever? She could hardly believe it. Suddenly, a powerful and uncontrollable anger filled her, and then, Darcy Lewis said by far the stupidest thing she would ever say in her life:

"_YOU FUCKER!_" she screamed after the mugger. "_MY TASER IS IN THERE!_"

She immediately realized her mistake, but it was too late. The skinhead stopped in his tracks, and Darcy saw him ruffle around in her purse for a moment. When he turned to face her, he held her Taser in his hand.

Darcy watched his eyes dart over and over between her and the Taser, clearly contemplating, and she was sober enough to know exactly what he was thinking of doing. Young as she was, she knew perfectly well what men thought of her in regards to her looks, even as she was now—no makeup, worn-out jeans, and a simple T-shirt. She recognized the need to remain stock still, willing the man to turn around and walk away, to not make this the night when he would ruin both her life and his, knowing that any sudden movement on her part could startle him into attacking. But even as she stood frozen, hoping beyond hope, she saw the skinhead's lips slide open in a sickening, twisted grin. He was now watching her with an inhuman, maniacal hunger in his eyes. He had made his decision.

As he took his first step toward her, Darcy turned around and bolted the other way.

But she hadn't even taken three steps when, with a startled shriek, she was forced to come to a halt again, because, appearing as if from behind a dissolving, invisible wall and coming at her at a swift, forceful march, was none other than the God of Mischief.

Darcy could do little more than gape at him, her mind reeling, while he appeared to not see her at all. With his eyes frightfully emotionless and his face a grayish paper white, Darcy recognized an expression she had seen him wear once before—that of purest rage.

"Move," Loki growled, thrusting out his hand at her. He did not touch her, but Darcy felt an invisible force pushing her to the side, as if she and Loki's hand were similarly charged magnets. It had not been a hard push at all, but Darcy, being Darcy, stumbled over her own feet and came crashing into a pile of garbage and empty cardboard boxes that lay against the side of the alley. Her glasses went flying off her face and landed she could not see where.

Loki came to a stop in front of the skinhead, who appeared to have chosen to fight rather than flee. He had dropped Darcy's purse to the ground, and, holding her Taser in both hands, pointed it at Loki's chest.

"Eaaaaasy, mate," he cooed at Loki. "See what I've got here?" He brandished the Taser slightly.

Loki raised one entirely nonplussed eyebrow at the skinhead and took another step forward. Without a moment's hesitation, the skinhead pulled the trigger.

"No!" Darcy yelled, springing to her feet just as the two electrodes collided with Loki's chest. If Loki was going down, there was no way in hell she wasn't putting up a fight.

But oddly, Loki didn't go down. In fact, he appeared to be quite unbothered by the strong electrical current presently surging through his body. Both Darcy and the skinhead looked on in utter amazement, though an undeniable shadow of fear was now crawling across the skinhead's face.

Apparently having had enough, Loki tore the electrode darts from his chest and, wrapping the wires that still connected them to the Taser around his hand, yanked the Taser from the skinhead's grip. The gun landed on the asphalt with a clatter of plastic.

The skinhead was now staring at Loki with a mixture of awe and terror on his face, backing away toward the closest wall, but there was no escape for him. Shaking his head in what looked like disgust, Loki took a final step toward him and then delivered a rib-crushing punch to his chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him. The back of the skinhead's head collided with the solid brick, and he slid to the ground in a limp, motionless heap.

"Loki!" Darcy cried out, waving her hands frantically at the scene that had just unfolded before her. "What? _What?_ You _followed_ me? Who are you, _Edward Cullen_?"

"No, I am your _friend_, remember?" Loki replied calmly. "Meanwhile, this man is a pig, so please excuse me while I gut him like one."

Loki flicked his wrist, and this time, Darcy could just make out the small dagger slipping out of the sleeve of his tunic. Loki crouched before the unconscious mugger and raised the blade above his belly, and Darcy sprang forward and seized hold of Loki's wrist before he could deliver the blow.

"_No!_"

"'No'?" Loki asked her in a dangerously quiet voice, looking up into her face. But he did not attempt to free himself of her grip. "I am sure you know what he would have done to you had you been unable to get away."

"Of course I know!" Darcy said impatiently. "But you can't just go and butcher an unconscious man in a dark alley, Jazz Hands!" And then, having said it out loud, she felt the full gravity and horror of the present situation descend upon her. Had she not stopped him, Loki would have murdered this man just now . . . . Suddenly repulsed by contact with him, Darcy let go of Loki's wrist and took a step back from him.

Loki rose, slipping his dagger back into his sleeve, and there was now an expression of dark amusement on his face. "Very well, Little Mortal. How will you have us handle this?"

"_Call the police, of course!_" Darcy said, whipping her phone out of her jeans pocket. "Give a statement? Testify? Let him go to court and get sentenced the lawful way?"

"Hm," Loki said, rubbing his chin pensively and beginning to pace back and forth. "And what do you think _he_ will say when he gives _his_ statement?"

Darcy blinked at him. "What? I don't know! That he's a sick, twisted son of a bitch?"

"Really?" Loki asked, coming to a stop in front of her and looking quite surprised. "You do not think he might mention a strange man in strange clothes, possessing inhuman strength and the ability to withstand the power of whatever mortal weapon that was with which he attempted to defeat me? And let us not forget the strange man's name that you so cleverly uttered in his presence."

"He's _out cold_!" Darcy retorted immediately.

"Are you certain of that?" Loki asked.

"Even if he's not, _I don't care_!" Darcy cried heatedly in response. "Don't you understand? No matter what you say, I am simply not letting you murder this man, Loki!"

For a moment, Loki's expression became rather pained. "Funny," he then said. "You appeared to have no qualms about murder when you chose to impale that Dark Elf."

"_What?_" Darcy hissed, not quite able to believe that Loki had just brought her killing the Dark Elf into this. "This is a completely different situation! This is just a helpless, unarmed man, whereas that Elf was a—"

"Monster," Loki finished for her, his face darkening suddenly.

Darcy had been about to say "psychopath who would've killed me had I not chosen to fight back", but now decided that "monster" was also a fitting description. "Yes, exactly," she said to Loki, relieved that she was finally getting through to him.

But her relief was short lived, because Loki's expression continued growing darker and darker by the second. Finally, he spoke, in a voice barely above a whisper: "It makes me wonder, Little Mortal, if Thor did not look so perfectly _human_, would you and Jane still fawn over him so?"

As Loki spoke, Darcy could swear that she saw his eyes momentarily flash crimson, and in that moment, understanding washed over her. Understanding that was instantly replaced by acute frustration.

"That is not what I meant," she said, perhaps a little too harshly. "That Dark Elf wasn't human, no, and he definitely didn't _look_ human, but that is not what made him a monster and it's not why I killed him. So don't even _try_, Loki."

"Try what, Little Mortal?" Loki asked, his hands balling into fists.

"Try passing me off as some heartless hypocrite who only cares about saving lives if they're human!" Darcy spat.

"You said it, not I," Loki stated.

Darcy groaned loudly, threw her hands to her head, and turned away from him. She could not believe how utterly insufferable he could be sometimes. It was as if he _wanted_ her to hate him. Twisting her words like that, especially when—

"Hey!" she yelled, turning back around to face him. "It was you who said "monster"! Not I! You set me up, didn't you? You wanted an excuse to get mad at me! _Why?_"

Loki's fists were trembling slightly; he looked on the verge of attack. "Your lightning weapon, can it be fired more than once?" he asked, his voice discomfortingly steady.

"Yeah . . . ?" Darcy replied slowly, not sure if she trusted this sudden change of topic. "I have an extra cartridge in my purse . . . ."

"Good," Loki said. "You wish to take the swine to your mortal law-upholders, you are perfectly capable of doing so yourself." And with that, he strode past her and toward the mouth of the alley behind her.

Darcy whipped around in his wake, feeling her temper rise to heights she hadn't imagined possible. "Don't you _dare_ leave me here alone!" she bellowed. "Loki!"

But this achieved nothing. Without a backward glance, Loki disappeared around the corner of the building at the end of the alley.

Darcy turned and gave the closest bag of garbage a furious kick. She was fuming. Of all the dick moves Loki had pulled on her in the time they had known each other, this was by far the most horrible one, and she didn't think she could ever forgive him for it. But at the moment, she remembered grudgingly, she had more important things to worry about.

She looked at where the mugger lay, still unconscious, and then down at her phone, and then cursed Loki for having been right about calling the police not being an option. As he had said, what would stop the mugger from blabbing to the cops or his lawyer or the judge about the man in medieval clothing who withstood a shot from a Taser and then sent him flying into a wall with a single punch? If the case went public, who knew who'd hear about it? Tony Stark? Any one of the other Avengers? And how long would it take for them to make the connection, what with Thor living in London? No, Darcy had to think of an alternative course of action, and she had to think of it quickly.

Thankfully, it didn't take her long at all to realize what the only acceptable alternative was. Pocketing her iPhone, she picked up her Taser from the ground and hastily replaced the wasted cartridge with the new one from her purse. All she had to do now was wait for the mugger to regain consciousness.

She attempted to look for her glasses while she waited, rummaging indiscriminately through the pile of garbage into which they had fallen, but unsurprisingly, looking for a small object in a collection of other small objects in a dimly lit alley all while not being able to see properly proved impossible. Giving up, Darcy picked up a large, relatively clean-looking bad of garbage, dropped it on the opposite side of the alley from the mugger, and sat down on it with a sigh.

Not much else happened during her wait, with the only exception being the cameo of a scruffy-looking black cat, which dashed across one end of the alley and disappeared behind a pile of cardboard boxes on the other side. Just as Darcy was beginning to wonder if the mugger had hit his head so hard that he had slipped into a coma, he let out a low groan and began to shift about on the pavement.

Darcy was on her feet and pointing her weapon at him before he had even had the chance to open his eyes. "Hands where I can see them, asshole," she said, and was relieved that her voice was quite steady.

The skinhead quit his shifting around at once and looked up, appraising both Darcy and her Taser. Slowly, he lifted his hands in the air, showing Darcy his palms.

Darcy swallowed. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, she had no idea how to begin a conversation with the man who had wanted to rape her. She was therefore somewhat relieved when, after looking around nervously, the skinhead spoke first:

"Your superpowered boyfriend, he's not still around, is he?"

It took Darcy everything she had not to cringe at "your boyfriend". But with the skinhead having just confirmed that he definitely did remember what happened before he got knocked out, Darcy supposed that she could use his assumption about her relationship with Loki to her advantage.

"I dunno," she now said to the skinhead, shrugging casually. "You saw how he appeared out of thin air, didn't you? Maybe he _is_ still here. Just invisible."

To her satisfaction, this appeared to perturb the skinhead greatly. He looked around the alley again, his eyes popping in a clear attempt to make out whether an invisible Loki was really there or not. When he looked back at Darcy, he raised his hands a little higher in the air. "Please . . . . Don't hurt me . . . . I'll do anything you want . . . ."

Darcy clicked her tongue and crossed her arms, regarding the skinhead contemptuously. "You don't want to die," she stated.

The skinhead shook his head frantically. "No . . . . Please . . . ."

"But if I simply turn you in to the police, what will stop you from telling the whole wide world about my 'superpowered boyfriend'?"

"I won't tell a soul, I _swear_—"

Darcy clicked her tongue again. "That's not good enough, I'm afraid." And she pointed her Taser at the skinhead once more.

The skinhead whimpered, drew himself into a poor imitation of a ball, and covered his face with his arms. It was a sight so pathetic that Darcy was barely able to hold back a derisive snort.

She allowed the skinhead to remain in that position for a good several seconds. Then she sighed, lowered her weapon, and said, "Well, I suppose I have no choice but to let you go."

It took a moment for the skinhead to register what she had said. "Wh-What?" he stammered finally, peeking out at her from between his arms.

"You heard me," Darcy said, adding a note of impatience to her tone. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The skinhead stared at her incredulously for a few moments. Then, all at once, he scrambled to his feet.

"Whoa, not so fast," Darcy said, raising her gun suddenly and pointing it directly at the skinhead's face. He squeezed his eyes shut and plastered himself flat against the wall behind him. "If I let you go," Darcy continued threateningly, "there will be conditions."

The skinhead nodded blindly. "An-Anything you want."

"Firstly, you won't tell anyone about what happened here tonight. _Anyone._ Do you understand?"

"Yes—Yes, of course."

"And secondly, you will make sure never to be seen in this neighborhood again."

At this, the skinhead half-opened one tentative eye and looked at her pleadingly. "But . . . But I live here . . . ."

Darcy raised an eyebrow at him. "If you'd rather die than move, then by all means, that can be arranged . . . ."

"No, no, no!" the skinhead exclaimed immediately, his eyes snapping open in shock as he threw his hands up in compliance again. "I'll move, I'll move! Please . . . ."

"I'm glad we have come to an understanding," Darcy said in the matter-of-fact tone of a lawyer who had just made a deal with the opposition and had therefore avoided taking her touchy case to court. "Now get the _fuck_ out of here."

The skinhead didn't need telling twice. Stumbling and tripping, he tore himself from the wall and hurtled down the alley. Darcy kept her Taser on him until he had disappeared from sight.

She arrived back at the apartment feeling murderous, a sensation made doubly worse by the discovery that Loki, shockingly, was still awake. He had been sitting at the computer bar working on the S.E.E.R. computer when she had stepped through the door, and now turned around in his seat and looked at her. Without her glasses, Darcy couldn't see his face properly at this distance, but she couldn't care less if he still looked resentful, or relieved or apologetic. So she simply glowered at him, daring him to say something.

But Loki didn't say anything and merely turned back around and resumed his work on the computer. Before she could really think about what she was doing, Darcy had kicked off one of her sneakers, picked it up, and, aiming carefully, thrown it with all her might at Loki's head. The heel of her shoe collided with the dead center of the back of Loki's head with a very sound, satisfying _clop_.

Loki spun around immediately, his hand on the back of his head. Darcy still couldn't make out his facial expression, but she imagined that he looked furious and therefore continued shooting daggers at him.

"I'm sorry, but have we suddenly become five years old?" Loki asked then, and to Darcy's disappointment he sounded perfectly unbothered for someone who'd just had a piece of footwear thrown at his head.

"Dunno," she replied airily. "Do five-year-olds leave their so-called 'friends' alone with mugging would-be rapists in deserted alleys in the middle of the night?"

Loki remained categorically silent at this.

"That's what I thought," Darcy said with a bitter smile, and then kicked off her other shoe and stormed off into her bedroom, slamming the door behind herself.

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**EDITED to fix some typos, as always.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh, my, folks. I think we're about halfway through the story now. Wouldn't have made it this far without your awesomeness, so as always, thanks for the support. :)**

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It was the following morning at the Foster-Odinson-Selvig-Lewis household, and Darcy, Loki, Thor, and Jane were sitting at the kitchen table, having a late breakfast. Of course, for Jane, Loki, and Thor, this was a completely acceptable time to have breakfast, whereas Darcy was only up so late thanks to having gone to bed at a ridiculous hour the night before. Since Erik had gotten up shortly after Loki had retired to his bedroom after his fight with Darcy, he had already had breakfast hours ago and was now working privately in his bedroom.

Having been physically, psychologically, and emotionally exhausted _and_ under the influence last night, Darcy had fallen asleep practically the moment her head had hit the pillow, and this morning, she found herself hating Loki with renewed energy. She still couldn't see shit: Glasses were expensive, and payday wasn't until two days from now. Two days of squinting at everything, and forget watching the TV or using a computer. And it was entirely Loki's fault.

She hadn't told Jane or Thor what had happened in the alley, and it was eating her up inside. Her conscience was screaming at her to tell them, screaming that it was only fair that there be consequences to Loki's actions. But another part of her kept reminding her how much would be at stake if she did. How would Jane and Thor react? Would they kick Loki out? Doubtful, as that would put innocent people in danger. Would they turn him over to Tony Stark? More likely, and probably not the worst idea ever. But what would Stark do with Loki? Imprison him? Darcy doubted there was any prison on Earth that would hold Loki for all eternity. So then, what would happen if, after years of captivity, he escaped? The last thing Darcy wanted was to have an angry and resentful Loki start seeking war with humanity again.

_But don't you see, Darcy? He's never stopped . . . ._

Darcy chose to ignore that particularly condemning argument on her conscience's part, as another thought struck her: Would she, Jane, and Erik be able to finish calibrating the S.E.E.R. computer to track the Aether without Loki's help? There was always the possibility that being able to track the Aether was the key to defeating Thanos, and so, by sending Loki away, would they be practically granting Thanos his victory?

And finally, by far the most worrisome thought to have crossed Darcy's mind: What if, upon learning what Loki had wanted to do to the man in the alley last night, Thor went into an uncontrollable rage and, whether intentionally or unintentionally, killed Loki?

Darcy continued thinking over her options in disgruntled silence, mashing her Lucky Charms with her spoon absent mindedly and glaring at Loki out of the corner of her eye. He was uncharacteristically quiet this morning, and, Darcy noticed with no small amount of satisfaction, he looked like he had barely slept. But unlike her, the bastard was actually eating, gradually making his way through a large plateful of the bacon and eggs Jane and Thor had prepared, undoubtedly trying to appear as if nothing at all sinister had happened the night before. But something sinister _had_ happened, and the more Darcy watched Loki trying to behave like it hadn't, the more she had to agree with her conscience that it was wrong to keep behaving like that herself.

"Darcy, where're your glasses?" Jane asked thickly through a large yawn, a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to her mouth. She had clearly only just noticed that Darcy was missing her eyewear. "You didn't _lose_ them, did you?" she asked reproachfully.

"Loki almost killed a man in an alley last night," Darcy blurted out all at once.

Jane dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter, and Thor turned to Loki with a shocked expression on his face. Loki, meanwhile, simply continued eating, as if he hadn't just been mentioned at all.

"Is this true, Brother?" Thor asked him, swallowing heavily.

There was a slight pause, during which Darcy wondered whether or not Loki would be truthful with Thor, but then—

"Yes," Loki answered calmly, using a knife and fork to cut himself a piece of bacon strip. "The man in question wished to have his way with Miss Lewis, so I stopped him."

Jane gasped, throwing her hands over her mouth.

Thor's face blanched. "I cannot believe what I am hearing . . . ." he rumbled.

_Here it comes,_ Darcy thought, bracing herself. _The shit's finally gonna hit the fan._

"Are you saying, Brother," Thor continued, looking furious, "that a man attempted to take advantage of the lady Darcy, and yet you let him walk away alive and well?"

Jane, who had made the mistake of taking a nervous sip from her mug while Thor had been talking, choked on her coffee and began coughing violently.

"_What?_" Darcy spluttered, gaping at Thor, never having expected _that_ to be the response he would give.

"H-" Cough. "How—" Cough, cough. "How can you say that, Sw-" _Cough._ "—Sweetheart?" Jane finally choked out.

Thor looked around at her, bewildered. "Had you been in Darcy's place, my love, and I in Loki's, I wouldn't have hesitated for an instance to kill the man who wished to violate you."

Jane looked for a moment as if she were going to retort, but then averted her gaze, blushing.

Darcy rolled her eyes. Was she seriously the only one at this table who had a problem with needlessly killing people? Jane was clearly too smitten with Thor to think properly, and Thor didn't seem to care at all: He was now looking between Darcy and Loki with his eyebrows furrowed, as if seeing something Darcy could not.

"So . . ." Darcy began slowly, continuing to address Thor, ". . . what you're basically saying is . . . you would've committed murder and not thought twice about it?"

"'Murder'?" Thor asked, with a hearty guffaw. "On Asgard we call it justice!"

"By the Allfather . . . ." Darcy muttered, while Thor continued to guffaw as if Darcy had said something truly hysterical.

"Darcy's right, Sweetheart," Jane said, finally coming back to her senses, although she still looked rather pink. "That might be justice on Asgard, but here on Earth we do things differently. So even if you and I ever _do_ find ourselves in a situation like Loki and Darcy did, I don't want you to kill anybody, all right? Not if there's another way."

Thor stopped laughing, although he still didn't appear to fully understand the reasoning behind Jane's request. Nevertheless, he nodded his shaggy, blond head and said, "Midgard is my home now. Therefore, I must do my best to abide by its laws."

And that was it. Jane and Thor proceeded to enter into a lengthy discussion about how other Asgardian laws differed from those on Earth, Loki continued eating in silence, and after breakfast, everyone picked up where they had left off with the Aether. No shit, no fan, and Darcy didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

By the end of the day, however, Darcy had become certain that relieved was definitely one thing she was _not_. Although she now understood Loki's motive for wanting to execute the mugger, she still hadn't forgiven him for abandoning her in the alley, and she was quite certain that _he_ was still mad at her for supposedly calling him a monster. He'd avoided conversation with her pretty much the entire day, and, when at nine o'clock Jane had finally called it a night, he had simply disappeared into his bedroom without so much as a good night to anybody.

Darcy was losing him again, but this time, she found herself unable to just sit back and let it happen.

That was why, at about half past nine, as Thor, Jane, and Erik argued heatedly in the kitchen about who would get to shower first, Darcy walked resolutely up to Loki's bedroom door and knocked firmly. Just as she'd expected, she received no answer, but, sighing, she entered anyway and closed the door behind herself.

Loki sat on the edge of his bed, the only light in his room emanating from the small lamp on his bedside cabinet, sharpening his small dagger using what Darcy was fairly sure was one of Thor's leather belts. He looked up as Darcy entered, a mildly surprised expression on his face.

"We need to talk," Darcy said.

"Why in the Nine Realms would you want to talk to me?" Loki asked quietly, looking back down and continuing to sharpen his knife.

"Because God knows you won't talk to me first," Darcy replied.

"That is not an answer."

"_Fine,_" Darcy snapped. "I wanna talk to you, and believe you me that even _I'm_ shocked to hear myself say this, because I still wanna be your _friend_, Loki."

Slowly, gradually, Loki ceased his stropping and put his dagger and Thor's belt down on the bed beside him. He then looked up at Darcy, his expression mild.

Darcy decided to take this as a sign that she should continue saying her piece. "The man whom you wanted to kill in the alley . . ." she began slowly, making sure to choose her words carefully ". . . now that I know it was more of a chivalry thing and not a kill-all-humans thing, I can understand it, but I by no means condone it, and neither do I in any way, shape, or form regret saving the man's life."

"I understand," Loki said simply.

It was a better response than Darcy could've hoped for, so, feeling slightly more at ease, she kept talking. "Now, about the Dark Elf whom I killed—"

"Don't," Loki said timidly, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. "You don't have to—"

"Let me finish," Darcy snapped again. Her temper was still a little too short for interruptions.

Loki opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. Then, he nodded once.

"I killed that Dark Elf," Darcy said firmly, holding Loki's gaze. "I know it. I _feel_ it. And not a day goes by that I don't wish I hadn't had to do what I did. But do I regret doing it? No. And admittedly, the memory of it doesn't keep me up at night either. Now, I don't know if that makes me a bad person, but frankly, I don't care anymore. Because it was either him or me, and I hadn't done anything wrong. And no, Loki, it wouldn't have mattered if he was human, or Aesir, or Jotun. The only difference between me and the Elf and you and the mugger is that I had no choice but to kill in order to survive, whereas you had all the choice in the world.

"And for the record, I don't give a shit that you're not human, Loki," Darcy added quickly. "In fact, I'd love to see you in your Frost Giant form someday, if you let me."

Darcy finished speaking feeling confident that Loki couldn't possibly go on being mad at her now. She was most definitely still mad at him, but she was prepared to give him his space and wait until he was ready to come to her himself and apologize. She gave him a second now to see if he had anything to say to her at this very moment, but when he remained silent, she turned around and headed back for the door.

"I wish to be your friend, too, Darcy."

Darcy froze, her hand on the doorknob, and felt relief flood her entire body. She turned back around to face Loki again. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me, then?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Something I'd like to give you, actually," Loki said, and before Darcy could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, he was reaching into the top drawer of his bedside cabinet and pulling out—

"My glasses!" Darcy exclaimed. She rushed forward, took the glasses from Loki's outstretched hand, and put them on gratefully. "What—?" she spluttered dumbfoundedly. "_How—?_"

"I picked them up for you after you had already left the alley," Loki said. "They had fallen inside one of the empty boxes by the wall. It's no wonder you overlooked them."

"But you left the alley before I did," Darcy said, now even more confused. "Hey! How did you know I tried looking for my glasses in the garbage?"

Loki didn't answer, but by this point, he didn't need to. Her heart beating very fast, Darcy knew exactly how he had known that she had tried looking for her glasses.

"You never left the alley," she breathed, and there was now a warm feeling swelling steadily in her chest. "You stayed behind, didn't you? Just invisible?"

After several seconds of contemplation, Loki nodded once.

The warm feeling was now spreading through Darcy like a melting marshmallow. "You were the cat!" she exclaimed, another piece falling into place. "I mean—that black cat was a projection of yours, wasn't it? Is that how you found my glasses?"

Again, Loki nodded.

Darcy grinned at him, all the animosity that she had felt for him earlier long gone. "So then after I left the alley all you had to do was grab my glasses quickly and then make sure you beat me back to the apartment," she concluded.

For the third time, Loki nodded wordlessly, his lips pressed together as if he resented admitting this information to Darcy.

"But _why_?" Darcy cried out incredulously. "Why did you have to hide yourself from me? Why make me think that you'd abandoned me?"

Loki smiled at her sadly. "I suppose because I am not a good person, Darcy."

"We'll see about that," Darcy said defiantly, looking firmly at Loki and bursting with happiness. "Although . . ." she then said cheekily, now watching Loki shrewdly out of the corner of her eye, ". . . you should know that I don't fully trust anyone who can't be taken down by my Taser . . . ."

"Is that so?" Loki asked, and there was sudden humor in his eyes. "Because my miserable excuse for a brother couldn't be taken down by that shock toy either, and yet you trust him, do you not?"

"Actually . . . ." Darcy began, biting back a giggle. So Thor had never told Loki the story of his and Darcy's first interaction . . . .

"What," Loki asked dismissively, "are you telling me you do not trust dear old Thor?"

"Oh, no," Darcy said casually, continuing to keep her face straight with great effort, "I'd trust Thor with my life."

"Then . . . ?" Loki said slowly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Darcy.

Darcy merely raised her eyebrows at him in response.

"You cannot be serious . . . ." Loki muttered, his eyebrows knitting together in clear disbelief. "I suppose it could only have happened after he had been rendered powerless by our father . . . ."

"Right after he fell from Asgard and Jane hit him with her van, actually," Darcy explained finally, grinning madly. "He was freaking out about getting banished and losing Mew-Mew and overall acting crazy, so . . . I reacted."

Loki looked so delighted as he listened to Darcy's account that Darcy might as well have been telling him Christmas was coming early this year, and as soon as she finished talking, he burst into a fit of laughter, choking out, "The mighty Thor—the unparalleled God of Thunder—brought down by his own weapon—"

"'His own weapon'?" Darcy asked quizzically, but then realized what Loki meant. "Oh, right. Electricity. _Lightning._ Never thought of it quite like that," she added with a laugh.

They continued laughing, and Darcy wondered if she'd ever realized before how much she did that around him, or how happy she felt when they weren't fighting, or how downright seductive his damned smirks actually were. Then, abruptly, Loki stopped laughing and said, "Did you say Jane hit Thor with a van?"

"_Twice_," Darcy answered, nodding seriously.

"Tell me everything," Loki demanded, but no sooner had those words left his mouth than he succumbed to a giant yawn. "Tomorrow," he added sheepishly, looking more tired than ever.

"After work. On the balcony. And bring wine," Darcy told him sternly.

"You've got yourself a deal," Loki said with a grin.

"So we're still friends then, _Jazz Hands_?"

"Of course, _Little Mortal_."

But as Darcy departed from Loki's bedroom, feeling light and happy as a sunray, she was suddenly overcome by a suspicion. A suspicion that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to be more than friends . . . .

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**:D**


	16. Chapter 16

**Your order of crack with a side of fluff has arrived. Please enjoy responsibly.**

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"You know, Loki, if you plan on continuing to leave the apartment on a regular basis, you really ought to invest in some Muggle clothes," Jane said to Loki, as she, Thor, and Erik helped empty the grocery bags that Loki and Darcy had just brought back from the supermarket.

"I'm sorry, '_Muggle_' clothes, Jane?" Loki asked, pausing mid-action with a large bag of onions in his hands and looking at Jane with an appropriately bewildered expression on his face.

Giggling silently, Darcy bent low over one of the grocery bags so as to hide her face from the mischief god, but not before she saw Jane throw her a quick smirk. Jane was actually being pretty mean, Darcy thought in deep amusement, because Darcy knew that, of all the people in this family, Jane was the last Loki would've expected to spew nonsense at him.

"Yes, Loki," Jane replied nonchalantly, continuing to put away the groceries. "As in the clothes we non-wizarding folk wear. I know you have your illusions of course, but I expect those require quite a lot of concentration to maintain over extended periods of time."

"I have had no trouble so far," Loki said, sounding a bit insulted.

And he had reason to be, Darcy thought to herself, seeing as the holographic clothes he had projected for himself when he had gone to the supermarket to fetch Darcy's wine two weeks ago and the ones he had just projected for the grocery run seemed to have functioned without a hitch. But then again . . . .

"Yeah, um, Jazz Hands?" Darcy said, looking up at Loki while still bending over the grocery bag. "I've seen one of your projections, like, _flicker_ that one time when you were, um, super mad at me for, you know, that thing I did."

"So?" Loki asked haughtily. "What is your point?"

"My point is, what if you're out in public and something happens that really pisses you off or affects you emotionally in some other way, and your clothes start glitching? _Or_," Darcy continued immediately, as Loki opened his mouth, looking scandalous, "what if you're projecting a, say, pair of tweed pants, and somebody bumps into you and feels leather instead? It'd be more than a little suspicious, don't you think? So I'm with the Boss Lady on this one. Real clothes are just safer, dude."

"I have offered to lend you my Midgardian clothes many times, Brother," Thor said rather accusingly, peering over the open fridge door as he put away the perishables.

"And I have told you just as many times that I will not dress like a Midgardian farmer," Loki answered, without skipping a beat.

Thor glared at him, before disappearing behind the refrigerator door again.

"Why don't the four of you simply go shopping?" Erik suggested suddenly.

Thor's head immediately popped back up over the fridge door, his expression delighted. "What a marvelous idea, Erik! It has been an eternity since last Jane, Darcy, and I went!" He looked expectantly at Jane.

Jane looked back at him thoughtfully for a few moments, before saying, "You know, now that I think about it, I suppose I could use some new clothes, too."

Thor grinned at her excitedly, before turning to look questioningly at Darcy.

"Yeah, all right, Thunder Wonder, I wouldn't mind freshening up my wardrobe, either," Darcy admitted, to renewed grinning from Thor. "So when're we going?" she asked Jane. "Today? Tomorrow?"

"Actually, I was thinking Saturday," Jane answered.

"_Saturday?_" Darcy repeated incredulously. "But that's when the malls are busiest! We'll be fighting through crowds all day."

"I know," Jane said simply, but when Darcy continued to stare at her with her eyebrows raised, she elaborated: "Don't forget, Darce, that we'll be bringing two highly, ahem, _recognizable_ individuals with us." She looked pointedly at Loki and Thor. "So, in our case, I think some crowds might actually be beneficial."

"Oh," Darcy said. As always, Jane had an unarguably good point.

"You've been awfully quiet, Loki," Jane said, turning back to the mischief god. "What have you got to say about going out and getting you some new clothes?"

But really, Jane hadn't needed to ask, at all, as, judging by the look on his face, Loki felt no desire whatsoever to spend the upcoming Saturday searching for new clothing in a loud, crowded shopping center.

"I do not know, Jane," he said. "It seems an awful waste of time that can be otherwise spent working with S.E.E.R. Especially now, when we are so close to quantifying the Aether."

"I'll work on that while the rest of you are gone," Erik said simply.

"Thanks, Erik," Jane said brightly.

Loki looked mutinous. "Erik alone will not be able to accomplish nearly as much work as—"

"Tell you what, Lokes," Darcy said, cutting him off. "You come shopping with us on Saturday, and when we're done, we'll go to an all-day-breakfast place and you can have as many portions of bacon and eggs as you like."

Loki regarded Darcy shrewdly, appearing to actually be considering her proposition. Darcy crossed her arms and looked back at him in challenge, one eyebrow raised.

And that had been how, early Saturday afternoon, Darcy, Loki, Thor, and Jane found themselves on the way to Westfield Stratford City, riding the London Underground in a train compartment so overfilled, not only were they forced to stand, but they were also constantly getting bumped around by the surrounding passengers. This did however mean that Darcy found herself squashed against Loki for a good portion of the time, so at least she couldn't complain.

"I miss my car . . . ." Jane mumbled to nobody in particular, having just gotten smacked by a passerby's purse for probably the thirtieth time.

"No, you don't," Darcy told her immediately. "Or have you forgotten what a piece of junk it was?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right . . . ." Jane muttered.

"Will that be the one with which Jane ran over you, Brother?" Loki asked casually, then smirked.

Thor and Jane both looked alarmedly at Loki, before turning to glare at Darcy, who smiled back at them sheepishly.

The subway train came to yet another rough stop at a station, and, losing her grip on the pole she had been holding on to, Darcy went flying. In a flash of white skin, Loki's fingers closed around her wrist and pulled her upright again. The contact lasted for all of a second, but even after Loki had let go of her, Darcy could still feel the coolness of his touch linger on her skin like a ghost. It sent goosebumps up her arm in a way that was entirely exhilarating.

"Thanks," she said, a little breathless.

All right, so maybe her little crush on Loki had managed to evolve into a not-so-little crush over the past two weeks. His smile, his voice, the very scent of him now followed her wherever she went. It was embarrassing, really, how quickly she had fallen, and how hard. But she had not admitted her feelings to him, which was surprising, because she normally didn't wait around to tell guys exactly how she felt. Then again, Loki wasn't just some guy she had the hots for; he was her friend, and a close one at that. She wasn't about to jeopardize what they had with an awkward confession. Of course, she knew there was always the chance he felt the same, but so far, he had given her no reason to believe so. Every time she had attempted even the slightest flirting since their conversation in his bedroom, Loki had fixed her with a look of something that was, for lack of a better description, akin to fear.

Darcy, Loki, Thor, and Jane arrived at London's largest shopping center just after 1:00 p.m. and discovered it to already be filled with crowds of weekend shoppers. Ironically, however, the masses of people did not appear to provide any of the anonymity that Jane so craved, at all. People, women and men alike, stared and gawked at them as they passed, and Darcy knew the singular reason for this: _Thor_. Although he was currently utterly unrecognizable as the God of Thunder, there was nevertheless no mystery as to why he was eliciting so much attention: Dressed in bluejeans, boots, and a perfectly fitted plaid button-down, his golden-blond hair tied back in a neat ponytail, he looked as though he might be a male model who walked straight off the cover of one of those sexy cowboy calendars. Hilariously, however, he remained entirely oblivious to the looks, chatting away happily to Jane as he walked hand in hand with her, but Jane, Darcy noticed humorously, would occasionally throw one of the more obvious gawkers a rather unfriendly look, thus exposing her little-known jealous side.

Loki too did not appear to be enjoying the attention his brother was getting, looking more and more disgruntled with every passing moment, and Darcy didn't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. In the end, she settled on both, generally feeling sorry for him but also laughing internally every time she laid eyes on him. What was causing her so much mirth was the fact that, for the purposes of clothes-shopping, Loki had finally agreed to borrow some of Thor's Midgardian clothes. The problem with that however was that what looked incredible on Thor looked anything but on Loki. As it were, Loki was stuck wearing a pair of jeans that were far too baggy for him and threatened to slip down his ass at any given moment and an overlarge T-shirt that looked more like a dress or nightshirt on his lanky frame. The only thing that still looked good on him were his Asgardian boots, although those were mostly covered up by his atrocious pants.

"All right, where off to first?" Jane asked, coming to a stop in front of a mall map. "What kind of clothes do you need to get, Loki?"

Before Loki could answer however, Thor interjected: "We should probably start with the basics. Like underwear."

"What is an underwear, Brother?" Loki asked, looking uncertain.

Darcy turned from the mall map, which she had been examining with Jane, and stared at him.

"Well, underwear are like . . ." Thor began, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully, ". . . like smallthings, I suppose would be the best comparison . . . ."

"Only women wear smallthings," Loki snapped defensively.

"Not on Midgard, Brother," Thor replied. "You will like underwear, trust me. They keep everything supported and comfortable."

_Loki's not wearing underwear,_ Darcy's brain screamed at her, and before she could stop herself, her eyes slid slowly down his body and landed squarely on his crotch. For the entire time she had known him, every single time they'd hung out together, he'd gone commando and she'd had no idea . . . . This idea now put some definitely inappropriate thoughts into her already far-from-innocent head.

"Hey, Darcy, you okay? You look like you're off on another planet."

"What!" Darcy squealed, looking around at Jane. "I was—I mean—I was just thinking—"

"I see . . . ." Jane intoned slowly, raising her eyebrows. "Anyway, if we're doing underwear, how about we go to Calvin Klein?"

The underwear store was practically empty when they walked in, and the salesclerk greeted them at the door. As Thor led Loki away to show and explain to him the different types of men's underwear, Darcy and Jane were left to browse the women's section on their own. Jane, who adored the simple, sporty style of Calvin Klein, became immediately engrossed in the underwear, while Darcy, who much preferred funky colors and lace, looked lazily through the bras for a few minutes before getting bored and sitting down on a bench by the fitting rooms to watch Loki and Thor, instead. It appeared that they had finished picking out the underwear, and were now looking at undershirts.

"You should probably try these on before we buy them," Thor said, adding three undershirts to the already massive pile of clothes in Loki's arms.

"All right," Loki said, and made to pull his giant T-shirt off over his head.

"Not out here!" Thor exclaimed immediately, looking around nervously and shoving his now confused-looking brother toward the fitting rooms.

Darcy cursed Thor under her breath.

Thor ushered Loki into a fitting room and closed the door behind him. "You may try the clothes on in there, Brother. I will be right outside the door should you want a second opinion on anything."

Loki made a noncommittal grunting sound inside the fitting room, and Darcy, suddenly getting bored again, fished her iPhone out of her purse and began playing Candy Crush.

"How is it going, Brother?" Thor inquired of the fitting-room door about five minutes later.

"Acceptably," replied Loki's voice. "The shirts fit fine, but I am simply not sure about _these_. I mean, are they supposed to be this tight?"

Without warning, Loki emerged from the fitting room, and looking up in surprise, Darcy nearly dropped her phone. Loki had come out wearing absolutely nothing except for a pair of _extremely_ well-fitting black trunks, which left almost nothing to the imagination and which convinced Darcy once and for all that those horns on Loki's infamous helmet were definitely _not_ an attempt at overcompensation.

"_Brother!_" Thor hissed, looking furtively in the direction of the salesclerk and shoving Loki back inside the fitting room, as Darcy gulped for air. "You are only ever supposed to try on underwear over the underwear that you are already wearing! She will probably _make_ you buy these now! And yes, that is how they are supposed to fit!"

"Is everything all right here?"

Alerted by the commotion, the saleswoman had snuck up behind Thor and was now trying to peer past him into Loki's fitting room. Thoroughly startled, Thor spun around on the spot, all the while attempting to keep Loki hidden from view.

"Please, do stand aside," the saleswoman said sternly.

Looking sheepish, Thor obliged, and the saleswoman was presented with an unobstructed view of Loki's nearly naked form. Darcy watched her give him a onceover and then raise her eyebrows slowly. She was clearly impressed.

"Will you be wearing those out, then, sweetie?" she asked Loki, and her voice had suddenly acquired the quality of melted butter.

"Yes, he will," Thor answered for his brother, looking both confused and relieved at not having been reprimanded.

"Lovely," said the saleswoman, smiling toothily at Loki. "Let me cut that pesky little tag off for you, then, darling."

She disappeared into the backroom and reappeared a moment later with a pair of delicate-looking scissors. Standing far closer to Loki than was necessary, she then proceeded to take an excruciatingly long time to remove the single price tag from Loki's trunks, and as she straightened up, Darcy saw her fingers linger needlessly on Loki's waist.

"Do you gentlemen require any further assistance in finding what you need?" the woman asked, after having finally taken a step back from Loki.

"No," Thor said simply, now looking at the woman with an expression of clear distaste.

"Then I will be most pleased to serve you at the cash whenever you are ready," the woman said, ignoring the look on Thor's face and continuing to smile at Loki. She turned to leave, the scissors and the price tag from Loki's underwear in hand, but then, as if changing her mind about something, she turned back to Loki and said, "Young man, you haven't by any chance considered a career in modeling, have you?"

"No, I cannot say that I have," Loki answered tartly. The expression on _his_ face was that of an individual who had just ingested something undeniably unpleasant.

"Pity," the saleswoman said. Then, giving Loki another onceover, she shrugged, made a high-pitched "hm" sound, turned on the spot, and proceeded back into the general store area. Before Darcy was even consciously aware of what she was doing, she found herself giving the woman a very dirty look indeed.

In the fitting room, Loki hastily put his other clothes back on. Darcy thought he even looked relieved to be wearing the shirt and pants he had so clearly despised earlier.

As it turned out, Jane was ready to pay, too, though she didn't understand why Darcy, Loki, and Thor were suddenly in such a rush to get out of the store and wouldn't even stay with her at the cash while she made the payment.

She joined them outside the store two minutes later and handed Loki the shopping bag.

"Where off to now?" she asked the group in general.

The question provoked a discussion which aimed to determine what other kinds of clothes Loki needed so as to successfully blend into the mortal world, and as was soon found out, there really wasn't that much. Being a Frost Giant, Loki had no need for winter clothes, and neither did he express any desire to trade in his Asgardian boots for Midgardian footwear. This just left the regular day-to-day clothes, but when the question arose as to what exactly Loki wanted to get, Loki was unable to say. Although he seemed to be thinking of something very precise, he simply didn't appear to know how to describe it properly.

"Why don't we just walk around the mall for a bit and when you see a store with the kinds of clothes that you like, you tell us?" Darcy suggested finally.

It was immediately and unanimously decided upon that this was the best possible course of action to take, and the group set off down the hallway, heading nowhere in particular, though Loki was now looking carefully at the glass displays of every single store that they passed. Soon enough they'd walked past several men's and women-and-men's clothing stores, but Loki hadn't appeared to be interested in any of them. But just as Darcy was beginning to wonder if what Loki was searching for was even sold on this planet, he came to a stop in front of a store with several tall male manikins dressed in snazzy, well-fitting suits in the window. The store's name was Jack &amp; Jones.

"Here," Loki said, and then proceeded inside the store.

Thor moved to follow, but then noticed that neither Jane nor Darcy showed any sign of intending to go inside.

"Are you not coming?" he asked Jane.

Jane shook her head. "Jack &amp; Jones is all men's clothing, so I think I'd rather hit up Zara and check if there's a sale while you two are in there. Here." She pulled her wallet out of her purse, removed one of her credit cards, and began handing it over to Thor, but just as he reached for it, she withdrew her hand slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Spend wisely," she told him warningly.

"Yes, my love," Thor answered patiently.

Jane handed over the credit card, and Thor joined Loki inside Jack &amp; Jones, where the mischief god was already perusing a rack of pants.

"You coming?" Jane asked Darcy.

"Yeah, might as well," Darcy answered. Although Zara wasn't her absolute favorite, she did like the clothes there, especially when they were on sale.

To Jane's absolute delight, Zara _was_ having a sale, although this also meant that the store was extremely busy. So, without wasting a moment, the tiny brunette dove into the throng of fellow shoppers and disappeared from view.

Darcy followed Jane into the store, but she felt much more content to simply browse at her leisure instead of rushing to find the best deal. She looked at some tops, then the skirts, before finally gravitating over to the dresses.

It caught her eye at once. High waisted, low cut, with long, see-through lace sleeves, and of a glamorous royal-purple color, the little dress was donned proudly by the single manikin in the dresses section. It was so stunningly gorgeous that at first all Darcy could do was stare at it. Then, remembering that this was a store and not an art gallery, she rushed forward for a closer look.

She found the bodice and skirt of the dress to be made from a soft, silky material, and upon further inspection discovered that the whole dress, including the sleeves, was covered by small, clear beads that glimmered against the purple like stars against the night sky. There was also a light but supple mesh underskirt underneath the main skirt, which gave the dress a bouncy, floaty quality.

Without looking at the price tags, Darcy picked out her size from the rack of identical dresses beside the manikin and carried the dress off toward the fitting rooms, where she was forced to get in line and await her turn to use one of the rooms. She had no idea whether or not the dress was on sale, but she didn't want to check the tag until she had tried the dress on.

Her turn came several minutes later, and, her heart beating very fast, she clambered into the fitting room, closed the door behind herself, and hung up the dress on one of the hooks provided. Throwing off her denim shorts and white crop top in record time, she removed the dress from its hanger and slipped it on excitedly over her head. After fumbling with the delicate sleeves for a moment, she proceeded to zip up the back and then turned around and faced herself in the mirror.

The little dress, which ended up falling to just above her knees, hugged her curves flawlessly in the ultimate combination of sexy and elegant. Frankly, Darcy didn't think she'd ever worn anything quite so beautiful. Having left her hometown the night following her last day of high school, she'd never attended prom, and now she couldn't help but imagine that this was what the perfect prom dress looked like.

Having already fallen hopelessly in love with the dress, Darcy knew that she could postpone the moment of truth no longer. So, cringing slightly, she took the price tag into her hand and turned it over slowly.

Her heart sank.

The dress wasn't on sale, and the full price was nearly 200 pounds.

There was no way she could get the dress at that price, Darcy thought to herself bitterly. No way. She didn't make nearly enough money to allow herself to splurge like that. She was going to take the dress off and put it back on the rack, and that was final.

Feeling thoroughly unhappy, Darcy took off the dress and put her own clothes back on. She put the dress back on its hanger and carried it out of the fitting room.

She reached the dresses section and allowed herself one final, wistful look at the dress she was carrying. And suddenly, unprecedentedly, she was imagining a future that could never be, one in which she was wearing this beautiful dress and walking hand in hand with Loki, who was dressed in one of those sexy front-display Jack &amp; Jones suits, into a fancy restaurant or other such place, turning passersby's heads and laughing together.

"Fuck it," Darcy muttered. "If I can't have Loki, I can at least have the dress." And glaring at the manikin as if daring it to try and challenge this logic, she carried the dress off toward the cash.

But her who-needs-boys-when-you-can-have-pretty-clothes attitude would be extremely short lived, because when ten minutes later she and Jane left the store, Loki and Thor were already waiting for them, sitting on a bench out in the hallway, laden with Jack &amp; Jones bags. Spotting Darcy and Jane, the two Asgardians rose from the bench and began making their way toward the two women. Darcy's jaw dropped.

If it weren't for Thor's being with him, she mightn't have recognized Loki at all, so different did he look compared to the last time she had seen him. There was no sign anymore of the baggy pants or oversized T-shirt. Instead, and to great effect, Loki donned a pair of black skinny jeans and a perfectly fitted black blazer over a glossy forest-green dress shirt, and the whole outfit was only complemented by his Asgardian black leather boots.

"So?" Thor asked, as he and Loki came to a stop in front of Jane and Darcy. "What do you think?"

Darcy merely continued gaping at Loki. She found that the ability to speak had left her.

"This look suits him _very_ well," Jane said, putting rather a lot of emphasis on the word "very".

"It does, does it not?" Thor said proudly. "_I_ helped pick out the jeans!"

"Yes, it does. It really makes him _look like himself_," Jane said, continuing to overemphasize certain words. She cleared her throat and looked at Thor pointedly.

"Yes . . . ." Thor said slowly, clearly uncomprehending. "It truly is his style, I think . . . ."

Jane looked as if she might face-palm. Striding over to Thor and standing on the tips of her toes so as to reach his ear, she whispered, "_He looks like Loki._"

Thor took a look at his brother, and it appeared to finally dawn on him what Jane was talking about. The leather, the green and black, and the close-fitting style of Loki's outfit really _did_ make him look like the villain prince of Asgard. And people were staring at him.

"Worry not, my love," Thor assured Jane, thrusting his hand into his jeans pocket. "I have just the thing." And he pulled out a small black hair elastic.

"What do you intend to do with that?" Loki asked, eyeing the elastic warily.

"Ponytails, brother," Thor said, leading Loki back to the bench they had been sitting on and forcing him down. "They are the ultimate disguise facilitator."

As Jane and Darcy joined the two brothers at the bench, Thor drew Loki's hair, which had grown out to be just long enough to be put up in a ponytail since Darcy had cut it, into a single bunch and fastened it with the elastic. As soon as he was done, Loki got up and went to check himself out in the nearest store window.

If anything, the ponytail had made him look even hotter, though he definitely wasn't as recognizable as the God of Mischief anymore.

Apparently satisfied with his new look, Loki turned around and faced his companions again.

"Darcy?" he asked, making her jump. "You've been awfully quiet. You don't like the outfit?"

"'_Don't like the—'?_" Darcy began in a high-pitched voice, and then lapsed into a fit of sporadic giggles.

Loki looked concerned, but Darcy had soon managed to get herself under control again. Sauntering over into the god's personal in what she hoped was a casual manner, she reached up and undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt.

"There," she said, smiling widely. "Now, I love it."

And there it was. That same look of fear and uncertainty that flashed across Loki's face every time Darcy got close to him like this nowadays. Feeling as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her, Darcy took a step back.

"So were you able to find everything that He Who Must Not Be Named needed?" Jane asked Thor, checking her watch.

"Who?" Thor asked, blinking. He had been looking at Loki with a somewhat confused expression on his face.

Jane nodded at the mischief god, muttering, "I think I know what we'll be watching for the next eight movie nights . . . ."

"Oh!" Thor said. "Yes, I believe so."

"Then I suggest we get a move on, since, if you don't recall, that all-day-breakfast place Darcy found closes at five."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

By the time they finished their dinner, Loki had managed to consume five consecutive orders of bacon and eggs, thus setting a new personal record. Darcy's stomach had hurt just from watching him eat.

"Happy?" she asked him amusedly as Jane took care of her and Thor's bill. (Loki's orders had been on Darcy's bill, seeing as she had been the one to bribe him with coming here.)

"Exceedingly," Loki answered, unwrapping the tiny mint the waiter had provided him with and popping it into his mouth.

Darcy would be lying if she said that wasn't one of the sexiest things she'd ever seen.

"Thank you, ma'am," the waiter said, having just received Jane's signature on his copy of the receipt. "Have yourselves a wonderful night, everybody." And after smiling around at everyone at the table, he walked away.

Darcy could swear the smile he had given Loki had been inappropriate and lewd, so she glared at his white-shirted back until it had disappeared from view.

"I need to run to the restroom before we leave," Jane said, getting up from her and Thor's bench.

"I will come with you," Thor said quickly and got up too, but not before throwing Loki a strange, knowing look.

As soon as Thor and Jane were out of earshot, Darcy snorted. "Thunder Wonder _does_ realize he and Jane won't be able to use the same restroom, right?"

Loki smirked. "Knowing my brother, I have some reservations."

Darcy giggled, and Loki looked away from her. There was suddenly an odd expression on his face, like he was struggling with an internal dilemma of some kind. Then, just as abruptly, he turned back to Darcy and blurted out, "I have something for you."

Darcy just stared at him. "What, like a present?" she said finally.

Loki nodded. "As an apology for making you believe that I abandoned you in the alley with that man."

He reached into an inner pocket of his blazer, and for a moment, Darcy thought that he might pull out a dead rat. She was therefore more than a little surprised when instead of a small dead animal, Loki withdrew and handed her an iPhone case still in the package. It was bright purple and had an assortment of cartoony-looking cats on it.

Darcy looked at it dumbfoundedly. Thanks to its violently bright color and all the cats, it was on the verge of being tacky, and yet to her it was precisely that flashy, unique, and unusual style that she adored. She didn't know how Loki had managed to choose so perfectly. She'd only mentioned purple being her favorite color to him once, and she had never mentioned loving cats.

"I do not blame you for not liking it," he said beside her suddenly, making her look up at him in surprise. "You think it hideous, don't you?" He sighed and looked away from her. "I should have chosen more thoughtfully, I am sorry."

And Darcy realized that her long silence had been misinterpreted to mean that she did not like the phone case, which was possibly as far from the truth as one could get. She looked at Loki sitting there, looking so genuinely disappointed that his gift had not been received as well as he had hoped—or so he thought—and all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him right now. But at the same time, she knew very well what a rash action like that could cost her, and therefore elected to settle for the next-best thing.

And so, still grasping the case tightly in her hand, Darcy proceeded to slowly wrap her arms around Loki's back, under his arms, bringing him into a close hug, her heart beating out a wild drum solo all the while.

"I love it," she whispered quietly against his chest.

For a long moment, Loki didn't move a muscle, clearly too shocked to do so. But then, very carefully, he wrapped his arms around Darcy's waist, pulling her in even closer, burying his face in her shoulder.

They stayed like that for Darcy didn't know how long, but even if it was an eternity, it didn't feel like enough when they finally broke apart. But curiosity was nagging at Darcy like a hungry cat.

"Why _did_ you choose it, by the way?" she asked. "I mean, I understand the purple, but why the cats? I'd never mentioned being a cat person to you before."

Loki smiled, now looking very pleased with himself. "I supposed it's because I think you're a bit of a cat yourself, Little Mortal. When I saw the case, it instantly reminded me of you. I could not help it."

"Thunder Wonder totally paid for it with Jane's credit card, didn't he?" Darcy asked, grinning.

"I _was_ planning to trick the cashier into believing that some napkins I found were bills, but no, my insufferable do-gooder of an adoptive brother would have none of that," Loki said, disgruntled.

Darcy giggled. "I have no trouble believing that whatsoever. Oh, and speaking of your insufferable do-gooder of an adoptive brother . . . ." She jerked her head toward the hallway leading to the restaurant's restrooms, from which Thor and Jane had just emerged.

"So, where off to now?" Jane asked, once she and Thor had reached Darcy and Loki. "Home?"

There was a general murmur of agreement around the table, and everyone began to collect their things. Still smiling, Darcy slipped the cellphone case Loki had given her into her purse; she couldn't wait to put it on her phone once she got home.

"Where'd that come from?" Jane asked, having watched Darcy put away the case.

"Uh, Jazz Hands gave it to me," Darcy said.

"_Who?_" Jane said, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead.

Darcy nodded at Loki, ruing the fact she and Jane hadn't come up with codenames for the two Asgardians _before_ leaving the apartment.

"Oh," Jane said, looking confused. "You and, er, '_Jazz Hands_' exchanging gifts now?"

Darcy shrugged, trying to look casual. "He owed me for that shit he pulled in the alley."

"Oh, okay," Jane said, and continued picking up her bags.

They left the restaurant two minutes later, tired, but full of good food and satisfied with the purchases they had made that day. It was a beautiful night out, warm and clear, and just as Darcy found herself thinking that the evening couldn't possibly get any better, Jane turned to Loki and said, her face straight as a razor, "So, you're the Heir of Slytherin, right? How many Horcruxes do _you_ have?"

* * *

**Darcy's current theme song is totally "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga.**

***EDITED to fix typos, yada yada.**


	17. Chapter 17

**As always, thanks to everyone who faved, followed, and/or reviewed! I truly appreciate it!**

* * *

It was the last day of August, and it had brought with it a heatwave that put New Mexico to shame. By five o'clock in the afternoon, the top-floor flat had attained the quality of a sauna, and, all thought of work abandoned, its residents were now simply trying to cope with the overwhelming heat.

Even with three fans operating at full blast, the temperature in the main living area hung around 85 degrees Fahrenheit, and yet it was still cooler out here than it was in the bedrooms. It was thanks to this fact that Darcy, Thor, Jane, and Erik now found themselves spread around this area in various states of lethargy and undress.

Erik had regressed to wearing naught but tighty-whiteys, though today neither Darcy, Thor, nor Jane could blame him. Thor himself was only wearing a pair of plaid boxers, and he and Erik were seated at the kitchen table, playing the slowest game of checkers Darcy had ever witnessed.

Jane, who had been perusing the inside of the refrigerator for the past five minutes, was wearing a short, sleeveless nightie of bright-yellow silk. Darcy suspected that her boss wasn't actually hungry.

Darcy herself was, simply speaking, dying. Being naturally a very warm person, she was being affected by the heat worse than anyone else. Even dressed in nothing but her thinnest booty shorts and tank top, she had to resort to lying face down on the floor, limbs sprawled in every direction like a starfish, to remain even marginally cool.

Minutes dragged by like hours as everyone waited for that moment of relief when the sun would sink behind the London skyline and the city would be bathed in shadow. Jane had actually sat down beside the open refrigerator, all pretense of searching for food abandoned, Erik had passed out on top of the checker board, his head resting on top of his folded arms, and Thor had slumped in his chair with his head thrown all the way back, and was now snoring loudly. And then Darcy realized . . . something was missing.

"Yo, Thor," she groaned from the floor, "where's your bro?"

Thor woke with an exceptionally loud snore and looked around the room sluggishly. "Someone say my name?" he mumbled.

Darcy flopped her hand at him to get his attention. "Dude. Your bro. Where is he?"

Thor shrugged his massive shoulders. "Dunno. His quarters probably."

"Are we sure he's even alive? I thought Frost Giants didn't tolerate the heat too well?"

But Thor's head had already tipped backward again, and renewed snoring filled the room.

Having inadvertently roused her own curiosity, Darcy rolled onto her back and then sat up. Where _was_ that pesky little mischief god? "All right, I'ma go check on him," she said to nobody in particular, before getting up off the floor completely.

Her head swam as the blood rushed from it, and, zombie like, she shuffled toward Loki's bedroom. Without even bothering to knock on the door first, she simply pushed it open, slouched inside, and then shut the door behind herself.

"Hello, Little Mortal."

Darcy groaned a little in response and then turned around to face the room again. And then her zombie brain short-circuited.

Apparently not immune to the heat either, Loki had stripped down to those little black Calvin Klein trunks that Darcy adored, and now lay stretched out on his bed, propped up against the headboard on a pillow, a novel held open in his long fingers. The sight of him was enough to make Darcy forget why she had come to his room in the first place.

"May I help you?" Loki asked, without looking up from his novel.

Once the initial shock of seeing Loki almost in the nude yet again had worn off, Darcy thankfully found clear thought returning to her. And she thought she knew why she was suddenly feeling so much more awake.

"How . . . . How can you read?" she asked Loki incredulously. "How have you not passed out from the heat yet?"

Loki gave the tiniest of shrugs. "I'm quite comfortable."

Darcy marveled at how he could possibly say that, but then, with a jolt, she realized that the room she was in was actually very cool. Possibly 10 whole degrees cooler than the rest of the apartment. She had apparently been too distracted by Loki to have noticed it before now.

"Oh, my God," she murmured, holding her arms out away from her body so as to allow the cool air to envelop her fully. "Holy fuck, that feels good."

Loki showed no sign of having heard her attestations of pleasure and simply continued reading his book. The only problem with that was that Darcy didn't remember him having any books.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" she asked, coming closer to his bed and peering at the cover of the novel. The words "A Game of Thrones" jumped out at her immediately, along with the big round coffee stain she remembered putting there two years ago, because _it was her book_. "Hey, that's mine, you dick!" she cried out indignantly. "Why'd you go and steal it?"

"I didn't steal it," Loki answered calmly. "I borrowed it."

"You took it without my permission!" Darcy shot back.

"With every intention to return it to you once I have finished with it," Loki said, then licked a finger and flipped a page.

Darcy was about to reprimand him for leaving his saliva all over her book, but got distracted by the sudden realization that the air immediately surrounding his bed was even cooler than the air in the rest of his room. And she understood: _Loki_ was the source of the cold. If she paid close-enough attention, she could actually feel it emanating from him like a pulse. And now that she was near enough, she could see that he even looked different. Paler than usual. Almost gray.

"_Oh, my God,_" she moaned, for the coolness at this distance felt even more satisfying than it had done at the door. And before she had even thought about what she was doing, she flopped down on the bed beside Loki.

Loki did not react to her sudden closeness in any way whatsoever, engrossed, as before, in his book. This tempted Darcy to push her luck further, so she pried one of his arms away from holding the book and draped it over her chest. The contact of his icy skin against her fevered flesh felt phenomenal.

"_Holy fuck,_" was all she could say to voice this overwhelming sensation.

Loki remained utterly oblivious to her presence, still thoroughly occupied by his reading, though he was now forced to hold his book with only one hand. Darcy wondered if she should push her luck even further, and, taking into consideration how far she'd already made it and how overheated she still felt, decided that now wasn't the time for half-measures.

So, placing Loki's arm under her neck instead of over her chest, she rolled across the narrow bed until, her breath hitching in her throat, she'd rolled right on top of the mischief god, her face down against his chest, her arms around his neck, and her legs pressed against his. The cold that met her sweaty body felt so unimaginably good that she shuddered from head to toe, moaning slightly.

For several moments, they stayed like that, and Darcy prayed that Loki would just go back to his reading and let her remain here in his icy aura until nightfall. But then, Loki moved, barely twitched a muscle, and Darcy found herself being thrown off him and the bed altogether. With much indignation, she landed on her backside beside the bed, while Loki's lips quirked into a small, mischievous smile.

"Ass," Darcy muttered, getting up, but then a small voice reminded her that Loki didn't feel the same way, that she'd crossed a line, and she felt slightly awkward. Awkward, but still dying of heat. "So . . ." she said slowly, ". . . any chance of your taking your reading into the kitchen and cooling down the rest of us?"

"That depends," Loki said, his nose buried in his book again. "What are you willing to do for it?"

"Anything," Darcy answered truthfully.

Loki lowered the book, looking interested. "Anything?"

Darcy nodded defiantly.

"Fascinating," Loki said, sitting up and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. He put down the book and studied Darcy thoughtfully.

Darcy stared back at him. She couldn't be more serious about not wanting to have a heatstroke tonight.

"You are not allowed to call me any nicknames . . . for a month," Loki said finally, before fixing Darcy with a smug smirk.

Darcy's jaw dropped. "Not even _Jazz Hands_?" she demanded incredulously.

"_Especially_ not Jazz Hands," Loki answered, looking smugger by the second.

Darcy considered this grudgingly, but then a question came to her.

"All right, but say I agree now and then a week later I go and call you Jazz Hands again. What then?" she asked

Slowly, Loki's lips split into an insidious grin. "Then I suppose you'll have to be _punished_, won't you, Little Mortal?"

Oh, boy. There was absolutely no way Darcy could deny that the idea of being "punished" by Loki, whatever that entailed, was making some seriously filthy thoughts penetrate her mind right now. But she had to think clearly; she had to think of the suffocating heat.

"I will not wait for an answer all night," Loki said to her then, as if sensing that her mind was wandering.

But Darcy had already decided.

"You have a deal," she said.

"Really?" Loki asked, though he didn't look the slightest bit surprised.

Darcy had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from cracking prematurely. For a long moment, she and Loki simply looked at each other, sizing each other up, their lips quivering with repressed smirks and excited anticipation. Finally, however, Darcy braced herself and said, "Really. You have a deal . . . _Your Princelypants the Loco Queen Elsa Lokester Lokes of the Jazz Hands_."

For a moment, Loki looked deeply satisfied. Then he shimmered green and dissolved into nothingness.

Once her initial shock had subsided, Darcy smirked at the place where Loki's holograph had been sitting. She was impressed. How long, since he had thrown her off his bed, had she been talking to a mere projection of Loki's? Whatever the answer, she was confident that he was still in the room, invisible, watching her. Was this the beginning of her "punishment"?

"You know, if you're gonna _punish_ me, Jazz Hands, you better go and cool the kitchen right afterwards," she said, rotating slowly on the spot. "You can't both punish me _and_ go back on our deal. It wouldn't be fair." She was trying to catch a glimpse of the slightest disturbance of air, the movement of a curtain, hear the sound of the softest footfall, but nothing betrayed Loki's presence in the room. Before long, she had to wonder if goading him into punishing her had been a mistake. What was his idea of punishment anyway?

She felt him long before she saw him. Icy breath on the back of her neck. It startled her so much that quite unintentionally she ended up taking a step back and into him. Practically pushed herself against him. He did not retreat, remained firm as a statue behind her, and she imagined that she could feel every detail of his musculature against her back, which was nothing compared to the fact that, thanks to the position in which they'd found themselves, she could also very plainly feel him pressing into her ass.

Her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, Darcy turned around.

Loki gazed down at her with an almost tangible intensity. Just as his skin was not its usual color, neither, Darcy noticed, were his normally ice-blue eyes. Currently, they appeared to be a very pale violet. To add to the mindfuck, even the whites of the god's eyes looked slightly reddish. Darcy wondered if something was very wrong with her, because she found Loki every bit as attractive in this demonic-looking state as she did when he just looked Aesir. As it were, her gaze slid from his eyes and landed on his lips instead, so tantalizingly close.

It was as if he had read her mind. Closing whatever little distance was between them, he placed a cool finger under Darcy's chin and upturned her face to his. "Do you know what it is like to kiss a Frost Giant, Little Mortal?" he said quietly.

"N-No," Darcy stammered, while her mind raced. _This isn't happening. This _can't_ be happening. I've had a heatstroke and am now hallucinating._ But Loki's hand was solid on her chin, and suddenly, he was leaning toward her. Darcy's mind stalled. Loki's face was two inches away. She could feel his breath on her skin. She shut her eyes.

His chill breath was now falling directly on her parted lips. The sensation was maddening, and her whole body willed him to make contact. She could tell his mouth was mere millimeters away when he whispered, "Well, now you never will."

And in a single moment, both the pressure of his fingers and the iciness of his proximity were gone. Darcy heard the bedroom door open and close. Her eyes snapped open, and she knew instantly: She had been played.

"You fucking bastard," she muttered under her breath, squirming on the spot. If Loki's evil plan had been to get her hopelessly aroused by being a total fucking tease, then he had definitely succeeded. Darcy didn't even care anymore if he was going to cool the main living area down or not. All she could think about was taking a cold shower, and that was hardly because of the heat.

And she had to admit, this was one hell of a punishment.

* * *

**Loki is a little shit.**

**But hey, next chapter is from his POV and should hopefully shed some light on what's going on inside that convoluted little brain of his.**


	18. Chapter 18

Darcy slammed a newspaper down in the middle of the kitchen table, making Thor, Jane, and even Loki jump.

"Guys, you _have_ to see this," she said, tapping the upward-facing page of the paper urgently with her finger.

Loki looked down at it, expecting to see something of actual newsworthiness, but all that met his eyes was an article on London's steadily increasing pigeon population.

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking at?" Jane asked, taking the words straight out of Loki's mouth.

Darcy poked at the small advertisement at the bottom of the page impatiently.

Jane picked up the paper. "'_Think you've got the best Hallowe'en costume in town?_'" she read aloud. "'_Or do you and your friends believe your costumes are out of this world? Then why not head down to the University of Greenwich this All Hallows' Eve and put you and your mates' costumes to the challenge in the ultimate _Hallowe'en Costume Competition_! Admission fee is __£25 per competing unit (units with multiple competitors allowed), and the grand prize is a whopping _£500_! Don't miss out on this spook-tacular event organized entirely by University of Greenwich students! Registration starts at 6 p.m., competition begins at 7. All proceeds go to the continuing reconstruction of the Old Royal Naval College._'" Jane lowered the paper and looked at Darcy with infinite patience. "You want us to participate, don't you?"

"Hell, yeah!" Darcy exclaimed immediately. "May we? _Please?_"

"Darcy. The thirty-first is tomorrow and we have no costumes—"

"Two of us do."

Jane looked at Darcy perplexedly for a moment, and then suddenly it appeared to dawn on her what Darcy was taking about.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, _NO._ That is a _terrible_ idea, Darcy."

"I am confused," Thor said, looking between Jane and Darcy quizzically. "What is Darcy's terrible idea?"

"I believe Miss Lewis wishes for you and I to wear our Asgardian battle suits to a Midgardian costume competition in celebration of Midgard's day of the dead," Loki chose to supply to his befuddled brother.

"My battle suit is not a costume!" Thor said indignantly.

"And yet it comes with a great colorful cape," Loki pointed out, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Thor raised his eyebrows. "And what about _your_ great colorful cape then?"

"I do not have one," Loki said curtly.

"If you think I have forgotten about it—" Thor began, smirking slightly.

"_Anymore,_" Loki snapped.

"Well, Boss Lady?" Darcy asked, looking between the two brothers, her eyes bright. "How do you feel about making a surefire five hundred bucks?"

"Not gonna happen," Jane said immediately.

"Oh, come on, Jane," Darcy cooed, looking at Jane as if the scientist were a small child spewing endearing nonsense. "There's no way Loki and Thor will lose if they go dressed as _Loki and Thor_."

"Darcy, are you actually being serious right now?" Jane demanded. Clearly, her patience had not only become finite, but had also reached its limit. "I mean, do you _want_ Loki to be recognized and cause a mass panic? And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not deal with a crowd of Thor fanatics either."

"Jane, Jane, Jane," Darcy said, shutting her eyes and shaking her head incredulously. "Always the pessimist. Do you honestly believe that there's even the slightest chance that someone's going to think that the _real_ Thor and Loki have shown up at a _costume competition dressed as themselves_?"

"Yes!" Jane exclaimed desperately. "And I'm sorry, Darce, but that's just not a chance that I think we should take!"

"Five hundred pounds, Jane," Darcy said solemnly. "You could put that away towards a new car."

"I wouldn't care if we got five _thousand_ pounds just for attending!" Jane cried out. "It's just too dangerous, Darcy, so no, I don't approve. And if either of you go with her anyway,"—she wagged her finger threateningly at Loki and Thor—"then don't bother coming home afterwards!"

Darcy crossed her arms and continued looking at Jane, but did not say anything. Loki could just imagine the gears turning in her head as she tried to come up with a loophole.

"All right, new plan," Darcy said at length. "_You and I_ go to the competition, dressed as _Lady_ Thor and _Lady_ Loki."

Jane opened her mouth and closed it again. Her brow furrowed. But then she shook her head. "Darcy, Thor and Loki's costumes—"

"Battle suits," grumbled Thor.

"—won't fit us. They're too big. We'd look ridiculous."

"Who said anything about wearing _their_ costumes—"

"_Battle suits._"

"—when we have our very own illusions master at our service?" Darcy turned to Loki now. "What do you say, Jazz Hands? Can you turn Jane and me into Thor and Loki, _Princesses_ of Asgard?"

"I can," Loki said simply. He could definitely picture himself having some fun with this.

Darcy's face lit up. "Get up, Jane. Let's see what he can do."

"Oh, I don't know . . . ." Jane said, looking entirely unenthused. "This is unnecessary, really . . . ."

Darcy sighed and started pulling at the back of Jane's chair. "Just do it, Grumpy Cat."

Very reluctantly, Jane got up. Darcy took her by the wrist and pulled her away from the table, into the center of the room.

"Okay, Jazz Hands, do your thing!"

_With pleasure,_ Loki thought to himself, fighting back a smirk.

It took him all of a moment to project the image that he had been imagining onto the bodies of the two women, one wary, one excited, but both completely unsuspecting. Then it was just a matter of rendering the women's real clothes invisible, and the final product was complete.

Darcy and Jane stood in the middle of the kitchen dressed in nothing but a pair of two-piece black-leather bikinis—one plated with gold, the other with steel—and capes of forest green and royal red. Loki figured he would be murdered soon, but getting to see Darcy like this was more than worth it to him.

Both women noticed each other's outfits before noticing their own. There was a whole lot of pointing and gaping, and then, as one, Darcy and Jane turned to glare accusingly at Loki. Jane caught Thor's eye and turned beet red, then attempted to draw her holographic cape around herself, which, seeing as the cape was composed of pure light and therefore had no physical value, achieved nothing. Darcy on the other hand showed no shame whatsoever. Instead, she threw her hands to her hips and said, continuing to glower scathingly, "I said _Princesses_ of Asgard, Loki, not _prostitutes_."

Her pose and her expression and the use of his name in _that_ tone were enough to send a rush of warmth straight to Loki's cock. Desperate to keep the warmth from amounting to anything more substantial, Loki hastily returned Darcy and Jane to normal.

Thor, who had been ogling Jane speechlessly since Loki had first cast the illusions, looked disappointed. "I rather liked those," he said quietly.

Although Loki could not agree more, he had never seriously expected Darcy and Jane to wear the bikinis he had projected for them to the competition. So, deciding that he had embarrassed the two women quite enough for one day, he proceeded to cast the illusions that he figured would be more in line with Darcy and Jane's expectations.

The outfits he projected were exact replicas of his and Thor's battle suits—capes and helmets included—with the one exception that they were considerably smaller and more fitted to the women's bodies. All in all, Loki had to admit that the effect was unprecedentedly entertaining.

"_Jane!_" Darcy squealed, gawking at her friend. "You look _badass_!"

"Speak for yourself, Darce!" Jane exclaimed, staring at Darcy with likewise awe.

"Mirror. Now," Darcy said excitedly, then grabbed Jane by the wrist again and pulled her toward the bathing room.

There was much more excited squealing and chattering as Loki watched the two mortals gape and point at themselves in the bathing-room mirror, and when Darcy and Jane returned to the kitchen, they looked positively elated.

"_This_ is what I'm talking about!" Darcy cried out, beaming. She then cleared her throat and said, in an extremely poor imitation of Loki's voice and accent, "I am Loki from Sassgard, and I have come to turn you all into my slaves and followers!"

"I regret this already," Loki said, though his smile betrayed that he was feeling the exact opposite.

"So, what do you think, Sweetheart?" Jane asked, catching Thor's eye shyly. "Do I make a good you?"

"You are perfect," Thor said, looking at Jane with a rather mesmerized expression on his face. "All you are missing is Mjolnir. It is truly unfortunate that you would not be able to wield it even for one night."

"Hold on," Darcy said, goggling at Thor as if he had just revealed that he was a fairy princess, before turning to Loki instead. "But couldn't you make us a holographic Mew-Mew and Poking Stick to go along with our outfits, Jazz Hands? I mean, Thunder Wonder's right: the Boss Lady and I can't very well go parading around town dressed as you guys without having your weapons on us as well!"

"'_Poking Stick'?_" Loki demanded, aghast. "Please tell me it is not my scepter that you are referring to."

"I dunno, is that the stick you used to poke people with to turn them into your slaves?" Darcy asked.

"In the crudest sense imaginable . . . ." Loki growled.

"Then yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about," Darcy said cheerfully. "So, can you do it? Make Jane and me a Mew-Mew and a Poking Stick?"

Loki sighed. Was he even capable of refusing Darcy _anything_ by this point?

"Fine," he said. "But it will not work successfully unless I have actual physical objects to anchor the illusions to."

"What," Darcy said flatly, but Jane was nodding in understanding.

"I think I know what he means," she said, before withdrawing to rummage through the kitchen drawers. She returned moments later carrying a potato masher and a spatula. "Will these do?" she asked Loki.

"Yes, I believe so," Loki said, impressed with the mortal scientist despite himself.

Jane handed a bewildered-looking Darcy the spatula, but held on to the potato masher, gripping the handle tightly with both hands and brandishing it as if she really were about to wallop somebody across the head with it. Meanwhile, Thor was beginning to look lightheaded.

Using Jane's potato masher as a skeleton for the illusion, Loki proceeded to easily cast a projection of Mjolnir over it. Jane grinned, waving the holographic hammer around enthusiastically.

"Okay, _now_ I get it!" Darcy exclaimed excitedly. She thrust her spatula out at Loki. "Scepter me."

_If only,_ Loki thought grimly, then waved his hand, casting a perfect holographic copy of his scepter over the spatula.

Darcy's sapphire-blue eyes widened with evident exhilaration as she inspected the scepter. She appeared mesmerized by its beauty, and Loki had to admit, she herself looked damn good holding it. It was a few seconds before she was able to tear her eyes away from it, at which point she walked up to Loki and touched the very tip of the hologram to his chest. He indulged her by using his illusion magic to mimic the effects that the real scepter would have had on him: the spidery network of blue light crawling up his neck and face, and his eyes going black as stones and then diffusing into the strange, ethereal blue. Darcy looked fit to burst with happiness.

"Jane. Mirror. Now," she said, then turned away from Loki, grabbed Jane by the arm yet again, and began dragging the slightly shorter scientist back toward the bathing room.

Loki blinked his eyes back to their regular color, which even he had trouble identifying sometimes. On Earth, at least, they mostly looked silver blue. He then crossed his arms and fixed his gaze accusingly on his brother.

"Whatever did happen to _my_ scepter, Thor?" he asked, not bothering to keep the note of indignation out of his voice.

To his surprise, Thor looked tense and did not saying anything.

After a few moments, it dawned on Loki what the issue was. He raised his eyebrows incredulously. "You _lost_ it?"

"Not _I_ specifically," Thor said defensively. "S.H.I.E.L.D. did, after HYDRA's resurgence. But finding and taking it back has been the Avengers' first priority for months now! As well as demolishing every HYDRA base that we encounter along the way," the thunder god added boastfully.

"Unbelievable," Loki hissed. "These mortals cannot be entrusted with anything, can they?"

It was Thor's turn to lift an incredulous brow. "You are one to speak, Loki. You were entrusted with the Aether, and you willingly delivered it to Thanos."

"Technically, I ordered Sif and Volstagg to deliver it to the Collector," Loki muttered. "But yes, the fact that I was aware of the Collector's little-known status as Thanos's minion is relevant," the trickster then conceded.

"And you will do well to remember that," Thor said, his eyes narrowed.

Loki was saved further scolding from his brother by the reappearance of Darcy and Jane, who returned to the kitchen whispering animatedly to each other, before Darcy turned to Loki.

"Jazz Hands, Jane and I wanna ask you something, and your answer better be yes," the green-clad girl said firmly.

Loki smiled lecherously. "I do not know, Miss Lewis. _Two_ women at once is not really my style."

Darcy threw the spatula scepter at him. He deflected it telekinetically, and it landed with a clatter of plastic on the floor five feet away.

"I'm _serious_, Loki," Darcy said. She sounded it too.

"All right, what is your request?" Loki asked patiently, though he was still smirking slightly.

"Tomorrow, at the competition," Darcy began, looking both excited and uncertain, "Jane and I wanna put on a bit of a . . . _performance_."

Loki waited for her to elaborate, and when she did not, he leaned forward a little in his chair and asked, "What _kind_ of performance?"

"A battle," Jane supplied suddenly, turning red again. "It was my idea."

"Oh?" Loki asked, facing the lighter-haired woman instead and basking in her very apparent embarrassment.

Jane blushed, if possible, even harder. "Well, one really can't imagine Thor and Loki being in the same room and not fighting, can they?" she then said defiantly. "I thought it would add to the . . . _authenticity_ of mine and Darcy's costumes."

"Battle suits," Thor mumbled automatically. "And I think it is a wonderful idea, my love."

"Well, it should definitely prove to be entertaining," Loki agreed. "But how do _I_ picture into it?"

"We need you for the, er, _special effects_," Darcy answered.

"I'm sorry?"

"You know, for you to use your illusions to make it look like Jane and I really _are_ fighting with Mew-Mew and the Poking Stick."

"You mean project blasts of blue light? Lightning bolts?"

"_Please_, Loki?"

No. No, he was not capable of refusing her anything anymore.

"Why not, I suppose," he said, feeling slightly ashamed of his own weakness. "But if things get out of hand, I take no responsibility."

"They won't," Jane assured him.

"Oh, my God!" Darcy cried out suddenly, her face lighting up as if she had just had some grand epiphany.

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her expectantly.

But her face was falling, and the next second, she looked downright grumpy. "Damn, why does Erik have to teach late on Fridays?" she asked nobody in particular. "I just realized he would've made one _badass_ Odin."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Remember, my illusions are incorporeal, so they cannot be physically felt or manipulated," Loki said to his and Thor's female doppelgangers, as the four of them stood in the hallway of their little apartment late in the afternoon the following day. "This means that if someone were to touch your costumes—"

"Battle suits."

"—or your weapons, they would only feel the clothes you are actually wearing or the utensils underneath. Which is why I would strongly advise you to allow people to touch neither, to not leave your weapons unattended, and to take great caution not to bump into or brush against anyone."

"Duh," Darcy said.

Jane nodded, looking slightly apprehensive.

Their journey to Greenwich University tonight promised to be interesting, as they would be traveling not by train, bus, or car, but by boat, something that Loki had yet to try in London. According to Darcy's travel plan, their first step was to walk the twenty minutes from their borough to London Eye Pier, from which they would then be able to catch a commuter boat and take it the entire way to the Old Royal Naval College.

They walked down the street in the twilight which had already enveloped London, Darcy and Jane in front, Loki and Thor bringing up the rear. Loki had been worried that Jane and Darcy's outfits would bring too much attention to the group, but he had sorely underestimated the number of fellow costumed individuals that would be out on the streets tonight. Darcy and Jane _were_ being subject to plenty of gawking, but none that was cause for alarm, and quite beneficially, they also drew nearly all unwanted attention from Loki and Thor.

To his surprise, Loki found himself rather reveling in this Midgardian celebration of Death and darkness. It reminded him of the Asgardian Walpurgisnacht, although the dates definitely did not correspond. Nevertheless, of all the holidays he had experienced so far on Midgard, this was by far his favorite. He wondered why learning about Midgardian celebrations had not been a part of his and Thor's schooling curriculum, but then again, their lessons on the subject of Midgard, outside those directly related to the Asgardian wars fought there, had basically boiled down to "One of the nine realms. Populated by lesser mortals." Loki was beginning to resent that.

"Whoa, sick costume, lady!" said a child's voice from up ahead, bringing Loki out of his thoughts. He looked up, but immediately regretted doing so.

Darcy and Jane's path had become blocked by four young boys, no older than twelve years old, and the one who had just addressed Jane was looking up at her with nothing short of reverence on his face. He too was wearing a red cape and a winged helmet, though in his case the former was a curtain and the latter was made from cardboard. His three friends looked equally as embarrassing: The biggest of the boys was dressed in a green turtleneck and green tights, both of which he appeared to have stuffed with some sort of soft, yielding material, with a pair of purple shorts on top and the skin of his face and hands painted green—rather blotchily. The shortest boy was dressed in a mixture of scarlet and yellow, with a round aluminum plate stuck to his chest and a red plastic bucket on his head, with crudely cut-out eyeholes. Finally, the last boy had actually managed to adorn himself rather well in a mix of red, white, and blue, but his "shield" left much to be desired. Not only was it fashioned quite clearly from a metal trash-bin cover, but it was also mispainted.

"Well, thank you," Jane said, smiling around at the boys. "You all look very impressive yourselves."

The boys blushed. Or rather, Garbage Shield and Curtain Cape did. As for Frog Face and Bucket Head, Loki could only assume they were blushing too.

He chanced a glance at his brother's face, hoping to see some sign of disgruntlement there at witnessing his and his so-called friends' images besmirched in such a way, but Thor was surveying the scene with a giant, happy grin on his face. Loki thought that maybe he was not such a fan of Halloween after all.

"You dare bathe this common wench with compliments and speak none to Lady Loki, Frost Giantess, Princess of Jotunheim, Goddess of Mischief and Lies?" came Darcy Lewis's booming voice, redirecting Loki's attention immediately back to the group in front of him. Darcy, who had previously been standing slightly to the side of the group, watching the proceedings with a small smirk on her face, was now advancing on the boys, her scepter raised menacingly, the expression on her face truly rather terrifying.

The boys shrank away from her warily.

"Do you not know who I am, powerless mortals?" Darcy continued, advancing still. "Do you not know what I can _do_?"

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that Curtain Cape stepped forward, crossed his arms, looked defiantly up into Darcy's face, and squeaked, "We're not scared of you, lady!"

Smiling unpleasantly, Darcy leaned over the boy until their faces were mere inches apart. Loki got an idea.

"That's quite unfortunate," Darcy drawled to the boy dangerously, "because you really, really, _really_ should be."

With the subtlest flick of a finger, Loki cast a momentary illusion to Darcy's eyes, turning them a faint shade of Jotun crimson. From this angle, he expected that only the boys would see it.

To his greatest satisfaction, the children shrieked and turned tail, fleeing down the sidewalk. Darcy burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

"_Darcy,_" Jane hissed, crossing her arms disapprovingly. "That was mean."

"No, that was _hilarious_," Darcy countered, wiping at her eyes. "Come, _Sis_. We have a competition to win."

She threw her arm around Jane's shoulders, and the two women continued down the street, soon chatting excitedly about the contest again. Loki flashed Thor a satisfied smirk, and the two Asgardians followed, still at a distance.

So the Little Mortal could play a pretty convincing mischief goddess when she wanted to, Loki thought to himself amusedly as he walked. She had even been able to mimic his accent and mannerisms fairly well this time around. He supposed he should have known better than to underestimate her.

Also, holy fucking Cosmic Entities did she ever look ravishing in Asgardian battle dress. Well, more ravishing than usual. He was disappointed however to have come to the decision that green was not her color. No, to him she was the deeps reds, the indigos, and above all, the purples. Dark, passionate colors. Passionate, like—

He had to stop himself. There was no point in thinking about her this way. It was pointless, and borderline masochistic. Why fuel his desire for something he could never have? Unless he actually _enjoyed_ subjecting himself to self-destructive torture . . . .

"You fancy her, do you not?" Thor asked him suddenly, his voice down.

It took all of Loki's far-from-inconsiderable self-control to keep himself from reacting poorly to the question. As it were, he merely lifted one eyebrow and said mockingly, "'_Fancy_' her, Brother? What are we, schoolboys?"

Thor rolled his eyes, _actually_ rolled his eyes, something that Loki was sure his brother had never done before meeting Jane Foster.

"Fine," the thunder god muttered irritably. "You _desire_ her?"

Loki set his jaw, keeping his gaze dead ahead.

"Care for her?"

Loki prayed silently for the oaf to stop.

Thor stopped. In his tracks. "You love her."

Loki cringed, shutting his eyes, but refused to slow down, leaving Thor standing, slack jawed, in his wake.

* * *

**Okay, so I hadn't _planned_ on ending it here for now, but it just seemed like such a good spot that I couldn't help it, hehehe. }:)**


	19. Chapter 19

**I just wanna start off by saying, reviewers, you kinda blew my mind with the amount of feedback I got for last chapter. I cannot thank you enough for your kind words. Secondly, I also wanna thank everyone for your patience in awaiting the second instalment of this Halloween three-parter. This chapter was a bit heavy to write, as I'm sure you'll understand why when you read it. I just hope you guys won't hate me too much. :P**

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To Loki's greatest annoyance, it only took Thor four large strides to catch back up with him.

"You _love_ her," the God of Violating Other People's Privacy repeated incredulously.

"I know not of what you speak," Loki gritted out through his teeth. Futility at its finest.

"Do not play dumb with me, Brother," Thor snapped, though there was no true anger in his voice. "I have seen the way that you look at her."

Loki sighed. He knew his brother far too well to think that there was any use in arguing with him further. "My, my, Brother," he said instead. "Is this your famed woman's intuition coming through? I do remember Mother having it something awful, and you two _are_ just alike." Although his tone was mocking, the reality was that he was jealous beyond measure of Thor's having inherited so much of Frigga. Inherited by blood no less, a privilege that Loki had never known.

"Do not change the subject, Loki," Thor growled, unabashed by the trickster's poor attempt at insulting him. "Do you have interest in Darcy or not?"

Loki let out a single, pained chuckle. "No, Thor, I do not have _'interest'_ in Darcy . . ."

Thor opened his great maw confrontationally.

". . . because that would put it far too lightly."

Oh, Thor. What a crude way to simplify the maelstrom raging inside Loki's damaged heart. Did he have _"interest"_ in Darcy Lewis? As if mere "interest" could ever come close to his true feelings for that ridiculous mortal girl. No, Loki thought not. Loki, who wished nothing more than to be at the girl's side always. Loki, who wanted to devote every moment of his existence to simply making her smile. Loki, who retired to bed every night with no other desire than to carry her to bed with him, to fuck her slowly and thoroughly, and to taste her pleasure on his tongue as she screamed out his name into the night.

"So, I was right?" Thor whispered, his eyes wide. "You _do_ love her?"

Thor really was an inconsiderate, meddling, annoying oaf, and Loki was not looking forward to the lecture that would surely come. Nevertheless, he exhaled heavily through the nose, before grinding out a barely audible, "Yes."

It had been almost four months since he had finally come to accept this very real, albeit inconvenient, fact, after having spent so much time stubbornly, and foolishly, denying it to himself. And it had caused him turmoil to rival any in his life. It had not only been the realization that he was in love with Darcy that had shaken him to the very core of his being, which it had indeed done, but also the realization that he could, very simply, still love at all. After so many years of playing the villain, of pretending that this emotion had been lost to him forever, it had turned his world upside down to realize that it had only been lying dormant inside him, waiting to be reawakened. And suddenly, it had not only been his love for Darcy that he had had to come to terms with, but also his love for Frigga. And finally admitting to himself that he had loved her as any child loved its mother had been almost as painful as losing her all over again. He had grieved her a second time, but his emotional mayhem had not stopped there. Much to his displeasure, he had also had to admit that his animosity toward Thor had similarly been overplayed, and that he still harbored some brotherly affection for the oaf, however slight. Indeed, the only member of his adoptive family that he felt sure he would never feel love for again was Odin, not that he expected anything more of the Allfather in return.

"Oh, Brother!" Thor whispered loudly, his face lighting up. "Then you are the luckiest Frost Giant on this planet, because I have also seen the way that _she_ looks at you, and I am certain that your feelings are not unrequited!"

Loki had to actually come to a full stop and stare at Thor incredulously for a moment. He had been fully expecting a lecture on why he and Darcy could never function romantically, and even threats to keep away from the girl. Somehow, what he had just ended up getting in reality was so, so much worse.

"You think that I do not know that?" he growled, resuming his walking in pursuit of the women. Darcy and Jane had now gotten so far ahead of him and Thor, he felt certain that this conversation would not be overheard.

And yes, he was well aware of Darcy's unfortunate attraction to him. He had begun suspecting it since shortly after the incident in the alley—a defining night for the both of them, it seemed—but he could not be certain of it until he had subjected Darcy to a simple test—an almost-kiss in the summer heat. She had been aching to give herself to him in that moment, and that had been when his worst fear had been realized.

"Then I do not understand," Thor muttered quietly, his brow furrowed in confusion. "If you know that she desires you, why have you not yet acted on your mutual affinity?"

"You are an idiot," Loki said tiredly. "I know that I say this often, but this time, I really mean it."

"And one of these days, I _will_ punch you in the face for it," Thor said cheerfully. "But today, I will settle for a mere explanation as to what makes me an idiot _this_ time around."

Loki sighed. Thor's attempt at humor had done nothing to ease his impatience with the thunder god. "My dear, _dear_ brother, do you not remember the circumstances under which I arrived on this planet?"

"Of course I do. Father banished you for impersonating him and usurping the throne."

"Correct. And do you remember what caused my most clever ruse to be so inconveniently uncovered?"

"You were attacked. By a bounty hunter, was it not?"

"Mhm. And why was said bounty hunter after me?"

"Because Thanos put a price on your head."

Loki clapped Thor on the shoulder. "Good job, Brother. Turns out you are not as braindead as I thought you were. But now riddle me this: Why in the Nine Realms would I, a fugitive wanted by the most dangerous being in the galaxy, act upon my feelings for Darcy, the woman whom I love and whom I would never want to see come to harm, when romantic involvement with me would put her in danger of being used as bait, or as leverage? Put her in _further_ danger, that is," the trickster added bitterly.

He hated himself. He hated himself for having grown so close with Darcy over the past six months that he could now honestly and with no pretense call her his best friend. He hated himself for subjecting her to the danger that he knew their closeness was putting her in. He hated himself for being too weak to push her away. And he _had_ tried to push her away. The night that it had happened, the night that he had finally _known_, he had run after her down the lamplit street, panicked and disoriented, but even then there had been no doubt in his mind that he would have to find a way to make her despise him. And how lucky for him that the opportunity to do just that would be granted to him mere minutes later. Yes, he had hoped that making her believe he had abandoned her in that alley alone with that man would mean the end of their friendship. He had hoped that she would never speak to him again. He had felt sickened with himself for frightening her like that, for _hurting_ her like that, but the knowledge that he was doing it for her own safety had allowed him to follow through with his dark act without faltering.

But Darcy had yet again defied his expectations, although in retrospect, he knew that he should have never expected anything less of her. Rather than cut him out as he had wanted her to, she had elected to be the bigger person and to attempt to fix what he had purposefully broken. And as she had stood in his quarters, explaining herself to him even when she knew she had done nothing wrong, unknowingly fueling the guilt that had been eating him alive, he knew for a fact that he would never be able to hurt her again.

But he could not bear to distance himself from her either. He was too weak to fight that invisible force that drew him to her like a cave moth to a burning candle. But the trouble with moths and candles was that candles were often used to lure moths, and trap them, and worse still, once they had served their purpose, the candles' flames were normally snuffed out . . . .

No, there was no denying the fact that Loki Odinson was no longer capable of being anything less than friends with Darcy Lewis, but he at least still possessed enough self-restraint to prevent their relationship from evolving into anything more.

"That is the poorest excuse you could have given me for not being with her, Brother," Thor said, shaking his head slightly. "Believe me, for I speak from personal experience."

Either this was opposite day, Loki thought, or Thor had truly gone off his rocker, because for the second time that day, the thunder god had said the exact opposite of what the God of Mischief had expected him to say.

"'Personal experience', Thor?" Loki asked his brother incredulously. "You do not have personal experience with Thanos. You have no idea what he is capable—"

"How long has it been since we finished calibrating S.E.E.R. to track the Aether?" Thor interrupted suddenly. "Two months? And what of the Tesseract? Over five months now? And how long has it been since Thanos was truly a threat to you? Oh, yes, that is right: _six_ months. Six months and no sign of Thanos, the Infinity Stones, or any more bounty hunters. Has it therefore not occurred to you that this Thanos might be long dead?"

Loki sighed. His brother's daftness was reaching new limits. "Had Thanos _died_, Brother, your father would have sent a messenger to inform you."

"Unless he is not aware of his death. Not even the Allfather can know everything."

"That does not change the fact that Thanos is more than likely still alive and well."

"How long then?"

"How long what?"

"How long will you wait until you will allow yourself to be with her?"

"Until I have definite proof that Thanos is either dead or well and truly defeated." _Come on, Thor. Your questions are just getting more and more idiotic._

"And what if you never receive this proof? What if Thanos dies in some gods-forsaken corner of the galaxy and no one is there to witness it?"

"Then Darcy will simply have to find a different object for her affections."

"As I am sure that she can," Thor said, sighing. "But now the question is, what will become of _you_ if she does?"

"What are you talking about?" Loki snapped.

Thor was looking at Loki almost apologetically now. "Have you not realized what is happening, Brother?" he asked gently. "The S.E.E.R. project is finished. Erik is teaching again, so he already practically has one foot out the door . . . . You are helping Jane complete her Convergence research, which is most gracious of you, but how much longer do you think that will take? Five months? Six at the greatest? And then what? Tony says the publishing of Jane's research will make her the most sought-after astrophysicist in this world, so there is no telling where her next job will take her . . . ."

"So, what you are saying is that I have, at most, six months left to live under the same roof as Jane, Darcy, Erik, and you, after which it's 'good riddance, Loki'?" the mischief god asked tersely.

"It is not as if we will force you out. But . . . ." Thor trailed off, rubbing his beard restlessly. He looked most uncomfortable. "All right, I will be the first to admit that when Jane and I agreed to harbor you, we did not think the implications of doing so . . . quite through to the end. As in, we never actually discussed what would happen to you once it no longer became possible for us to remain in London. I think that the both of us wordlessly assumed that Thanos would have attacked Midgard by now, and that your active involvement in his defeat would have exonerated you both in the eyes of the Allfather and the Avengers. But Thanos has not attacked, and with every passing day, his doing so is becoming less and less likely. But our lives cannot be put on hold because of that! Jane _will_ find another job, and she and I _will_ have no other choice but to relocate. And I honestly do not know whether it will be possible for us to keep concealing you from the world once we do! Erik's mind is well enough now for him to support himself on his own again, thank the gods, so he will remain teaching in London, but I know for a fact that he will not want you living with him, either. So what will become of you and Darcy is a question that I simply do not have the answer to, and for that, I am truly sorry."

"Darcy?" Loki asked immediately. "What of Darcy? She will go with Jane, will she not?" Prior to this outburst, he had listened to Thor without interruption, reluctantly understanding and accepting all of his brother's words. But how Darcy pictured into Loki's future problems, the God of Lies did not understand.

"Darcy would follow Jane to the edge of this world, and beyond," Thor said, smiling sadly. "The true question is, is that what she wants?"

"Of course that is what she wants," Loki said irritably. "She has been following Jane for years, has she not?"

"She has," Thor said.

"So what are you on about?"

"Have you not wondered _why_ she has stayed with Jane all this time? When she has no intellectual interest in astrophysics?"

"Not particularly," Loki answered truthfully.

"Well, I had," Thor said. "For a while. But I simply could not place it. But eventually, I came to make a realization: In the entire time that I had known Darcy, I had never once seen her make contact with her family. Not even on her birthday. Of course, I asked Jane about it, and she revealed to me that Darcy's parents are alive, but that Darcy had not spoken with them since before she had started college."

Thor paused, seemingly to allow the gravity of what he had just said to weigh in on Loki, and with a great twinge of guilt, Loki was forced to remember that he was only person in whom Darcy had chosen to confide her twisted family history.

"I do not know what happened between her and her parents, but I do believe that before meeting Jane, Darcy was alone for a long, long time," Thor continued. "Not physically, but . . . in her soul. And I also believe that being alone again is what she is most afraid of, and that that is the reason why she has stayed with Jane for so long."

Loki remained silent. He knew for a fact that Thor was right about the first part, and he suspected that he was right about the second part too.

"Jane is the sister of her soul," Thor went on, "but she is not the only family she has, is she? Not anymore. And I am confident that if only you were to let her into your heart, she would choose to go with you over Jane and me."

"By the Allfather, Thor, are you joking?" Loki demanded incredulously. "What kind of life could she possibly lead with me? You asked me what will become of me once I am alone again, and I think I have an answer for you. I will have to disappear, won't I? Go underground and hide out in this realm until either Thanos bites it or I do. I will have to fake my identity, acquire money in ways that will be far from legal, become a criminal by Midgardian standards. A life hardly worthy of—" He almost said "the woman I'd make my queen", but thought better of it. Better not add fuel to Thor's already raging fire. "Of someone like Darcy," he finished instead.

"There might be another way," Thor said.

"There is no other way," Loki retorted.

"You could turn yourself in to Tony Stark," Thor replied levelly.

Before Loki could stop himself, he gave out a loud, bark-like laugh. Twenty feet in front of him, Darcy and Jane turned around and stared at him bewilderedly. Thor smiled at them innocently, and incredibly, this was enough to reassure them into continuing walking.

"_You_ might have lost your mind, Brother," Loki muttered at Thor under his breath, "but I can assure you that the same cannot be said for me. What in Helheim could have even made you propose such a thing?"

"I am only trying to gain you absolution," Thor said genuinely.

"_Right,_" Loki said sarcastically. "Because all I have to do is turn myself in, and Tony and the other costumed idiots will pardon me on the spot."

"Oh, no, they will surely wish to imprison you for the remainder of your days," Thor said, raising his eyebrows, his tone forcedly serious in response to Loki's sarcasm. "But if Jane, Darcy, Erik, and I all vouch for you, I am certain that it would convince them to shorten the sentence a bit."

"No prison on Earth could hold me," Loki said dismissively.

"Unless you let it," Thor said carefully. "Unless you do your time not because you have to, but because you _want_ to. Because you want to show the people of this realm that you truly are trying to do better by them."

"And for how long would you expect me to willingly rot in a cell?" Loki asked, his voice full of irony.

"Well . . ." Thor began, scratching his head, ". . . taking into account your warning regarding Thanos, your irreplaceable contribution to the development of Project S.E.E.R., and the fact that your behavior has already been relatively excellent for six months, I would like to say that three years would be a reasonable amount of time for Jane, Darcy, Erik, and I to aim for when trying to sway the other Avengers in your favor."

Loki scoffed. "No sane person would willingly stay in prison for _three years_."

"But would it not be worth the freedom?" Thor asked impatiently. "The freedom to go wherever you want, to _live_ with whomever you want, without fear of encountering an Avenger who would still believe you to be the enemy? And if it is the prospect of loneliness that troubles you, I am sure that Darcy would come to visit you—"

"_No,_" Loki snarled suddenly, but then quickly regained his composure. "It is a foolish idea, Brother," he said a little more calmly. "It simply would not work."

Thor was looking at him shrewdly. "Are you afraid that she would not wait for you?"

"Of course not," Loki snapped.

Thor continued studying him closely. "By the Entities, you are afraid that she _would_."

Loki gritted his teeth, his lips pressed together tightly, but he did not say anything.

Thor sighed. "Loki," he said, placing a broad hand on Loki's back as they walked.

Loki had half a mind to shrug it off, but the contact was, in some strange way, comforting.

"Brother," Thor continued. "Listen to me, and listen to me closely. When I told you that I was speaking from personal experience, I did not mean experience with Thanos, I meant my experience with Jane. You see, I once found myself in the same boat with Jane as you now find yourself with Darcy. She cared about me, and I cared about her, but instead of being with her, I distanced myself from her. Because I thought that my world as an Avenger and as a prince of Asgard was too dangerous for her."

"I cannot believe that I am about to say this," Loki muttered, "but you made a wise decision, Brother."

"No, I did not," Thor said gruffly. "In fact, I made an idiotic decision. One of the more idiotic decisions of my life. If it had not taken me so long to realize that one cannot control the universe and especially not the people living in it, Jane and I could have been together for years now. But I thought I knew what was best for Jane better than she knew herself, and unsurprisingly, I was wrong."

"How is being with you what is best for her?" Loki demanded. "When associating with you puts her in danger? She is a target now for any of your given enemies."

"Do you think she does not know or accept that?" Thor asked, smiling at Jane's form fondly. "Being with me is her choice, as it should always have been. I had no right to take it away from her, and I now regret immensely that I did. So do yourself a favor, Brother, and try not to make the same mistake. Darcy is a grown woman; she can decide on her own whether being with you would be worth whatever danger it might put her in. You say you want what is best for her? Then be a man and let the girl think for herself. You will not regret it, trust me."

With that, Thor clapped Loki once on the back and then left his side, jogging to catch up with Darcy and Jane. Catching sight of her lover, Jane beamed at him and took his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Darcy looked back at Loki questioningly, and he forced himself to smile at her. Behind her, the great Ferris wheel, the London Eye, was just coming into view.

Thor understood nothing, Loki thought to himself bitterly as he increased his pace so as to catch up with the others before they reached the pier. And how could he? He had no idea what it was like to love and lose somebody and have it be entirely his fault. But Loki knew. For the rest of his life, he would know.

He killed Frigga, but gods help him, he would not kill Darcy too.

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**Well, there you go. Take it or leave it. Next up is the costume competition.**


	20. Chapter 20

**So I totally wanted to finish this by Halloween. Oops. :P**

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Their boat arrived at Greenwich Pier without Loki having to suffer through any more unpleasant heart-to-hearts with Thor, to his relief. They disembarked with a group of other costumed passengers, clearly also en route to the competition, and began making their way past the Old Royal Naval College grounds and down King William Walk to Cooper Building, which Darcy's computer research of last night had established to be the location of the competition.

Inside the building, which was positively swarming with contest-goers of all ages, signs directed them to what looked like a recreation room transformed specifically to serve the purposes of the contest. Tables had been pulled to the side, and in the center of the room stood a 3-foot-high wooden stage about 15 feet in length and 7 feet in width. A section of floor immediately adjacent to the side of the stage opposite Loki, Darcy, Thor, and Jane had been blocked off with stanchions and rope, and four tall barstools had been placed in a line the middle of it, facing the stage. Beside the double doors stood a booth with a large "PLEASE REGISTER HERE" sign above it, currently being manned by two young Midgardians.

"Jane, look," Darcy said, motioning at the booth. "This is where we sign up."

Jane turned to Thor, who was already pulling the money out of his jeans pocket. He handed the bills to the scientist, and she and Darcy went to join the queue of people waiting to register at the booth.

"Have you thought about what I said?" Thor asked Loki out of the corner of his mouth once Darcy and Jane were out of earshot.

"I do not wish to talk about it," Loki answered coldly.

Thor regarded his brother with a pained expression on his face for a moment, but did not attempt to make conversation with him again.

Registration complete and the 25-pound admission fee paid, the two women rejoined Loki and Thor at the back of the room.

"We're going fourth," Darcy informed the two gods breathlessly. "Signup has literally just started."

"Guys, do you mind if we go over our routine one last time before the competition begins?" Jane asked Loki and Darcy, suddenly looking apprehensive.

"Of course not, Boss Lady," Darcy said, grinning at her superior reassuringly.

Jane nodded, though she still looked less than confident. "Okay. But let's go by the wall so we're not overheard."

They spent the next forty-five minutes or so going over in minute detail the battle routine which Darcy and Jane had spent all of the previous day preparing, and by the end of it, Jane thankfully seemed more or less sure of herself again.

At exactly 7:05 p.m., a young woman carrying a microphone and a clipboard stepped onto the stage, grinning around at the crowd surrounding her, but everyone was so engrossed in lively conversation that almost nobody noticed her.

"Hello!" the girl said into her microphone. "Hello, and welcome to the University of Greenwich Halloween Costume Competition!"

Gradually, the crowd quieted down and all faces turned toward her. Some of the rowdier people yelled hello back.

"Hi!" the girl called in response, continuing to beam. "My name is Vicky Fernandez, I am a Drama and Performing Arts student here at the University of Greenwich, and I will be your mistress of ceremonies for tonight!"

The more boisterous attendees cheered loudly. Everyone else, including Darcy, Thor, and Jane, clapped enthusiastically.

"How's everyone doing?" Vicky continued. "Excited to get this show on the road?"

Another round of applause swept through the audience. Even Loki gave a couple of lazy claps.

"As much as I'd rather not, I have to start off by being a party pooper and letting everyone know that registration for the competition is now closed," Vicky went on, looking apologetic. "So if you're arriving late, you unfortunately won't be able to participate in the contest, but don't worry, you'll still be able to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves!"

People in the audience giggled and laughed. Thor guffawed loudly, before bending down and planting a kiss on Jane's cheek. Jane meanwhile was beginning to look queasy again.

"My next order of business," Vicky said, now looking outright cheeky, "is to introduce the four distinguished individuals who will be most honorably judging the competition tonight. Please welcome Acting for the Stage Professor Phil Hearty, Social Media and the Social Environment Professor Marilyn Jackson, Students' Union President Kevin Chang, and last but _definitely_ not least, the University of Greenwich vice-chancellor herself, Professor Iris Zaba!"

As Vicky called out the names, the individuals in question proceeded from the midst of the crowd and into the blocked-off section of floor behind the stage, where, waving and grinning, they took their seats upon the four barstools. Each of them held a clipboard in his or her hands.

"I know everyone is super eager to get this party started," Vicky said empathetically once the cheering and applause for the four judges had subsided, "but I have one last thing to cover before we begin, and that is the contest proceedings. They are as follows: All participants have been given a number at registration, and that number corresponds to the order in which you will be going up on stage. I will be calling out your names in that order. When your name is called, you will mount the stage at stage left—that's _my_ left, in case you're wondering—and will show off your costume to both the judges and the audience. You may do this in whichever way you desire, but out of consideration for the other contestants, please try not to take more than a minute."

"Yeah, not gonna happen," Darcy said, smirking.

"The judges will take the time that you are up on stage to rate your costume on a scale of one to ten, taking into consideration not only the costume's general quality and level of creativity, but also how well you portray the character whom you have chosen."

Beside Darcy, Jane made a small squeaking sound.

"Once the judges have finished rating your costume, you will exit the stage at stage right, at which point I will call up the next contestant, and once each contestant has had his or her turn, the scores will be tallied up and the competing unit with the highest overall score will be announced as the five-hundred-pound-grand-prize-winner!"

An excited but rather impatient-sounding cheer went up in the crowd this time.

"Oh, and the final but by far the most important rule for tonight?" Vicky asked, her tone suddenly serious.

The crowd hushed, attentive.

"_HAVE MORE FUN THAN A ZOMBIE IN AN UNSUPERVISED MORGUE!_" Vicky bellowed into her microphone. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce our first contestant . . ." She glanced down at her clipboard briefly. ". . . Ms. Mary James, who is portraying a cat!"

As Vicky retreated into the far corner of stage left, a red-haired middle-aged woman wearing a black catsuit, cat ears, and a long, silky-looking fur tail approached the stage, mounting the steps in the tallest pair of high-heeled shoes Loki had ever seen. Once on stage, she immediately approached Vicky and took the microphone from her hand.

"For the record, I'm a _pussy_cat," she said into the mic, addressing the judges. Her voice was low, hoarse, and oddly sensual.

She shoved the microphone back into Vicky's hands and, tossing her long hair, turned around and began strutting down the stage.

"Dear Lord, she's treating this like a fashion show," Jane muttered, as Mary James struck a pose at the end of stage right and then began strutting back down to stage left.

"I think she's awesome!" Darcy said, watching the feline wannabe with a grin on her face.

On stage, Vicky too was grinning amusedly as Mary James struck another pose at stage left, tossed her hair again, and then proceeded to stalk back down to stage right.

"Alllllll riiiiiiiight," Vicky said before the catwoman got the chance to turn around again. "Mary James, everyone!"

An explosion of cheers, applause, and wolf-whistling erupted from the crowd, mostly from the male half of the audience, and with a final toss of her red hair, Mary James descended the steps at stage right and slunk away, her hips swaying.

Clapping, Vicky took center stage again. "All I can say is that the bar has been set and that it has been set high, ladies and gents. But no challenge is too big for a family of giant, scary dinosaurs, is it? I hope not, because that's exactly who our next contestants are! Please welcome the Pudi family—Ryan, William, Susan, and Rashid!"

As Vicky retreated to the back of the stage once more, a couple with two small children mounted the steps, the father carrying the younger of the two boys in his arms, and yes, the family was indeed dressed like four great, multicolored lizards. Darcy had explained dinosaurs to Loki back when she had made him watch the _Jurassic Park_ movies, but compared to the horrors that he had witnessed therein, these mortals looked quite laughable.

The Pudi family smiled and waved around at the audience and the judges, but suddenly, the younger boy, clearly overwhelmed by all the unexpected attention, burst into tears. When the parents' attempts to calm him proved unsuccessful, the family took a hasty bow and hurried off the stage, to much vigorous clapping and loud awww-ing.

"How cute!" Vicky said over the rapidly retreating howling of the child. "Though I think that little T. rex scared himself! But don't worry—unlike the real dinos, I think that ferocious family will be back in no time! Meanwhile, I have the pleasure of inviting you to boldly go where no one has gone before, because—you guessed it!—our next contestants are no other than the crew of the Starship Enterprise! Please welcome my fellow Drama and Performing Arts students Sam Anderson, Timothy Billy, Chris Gagné, Melissa Archer, Pyotr Rostov, Anita Li, and Katie MacTaggart as Captain James T. Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, Nyota Uhura, Montgomery Scott, Hikaru Sulu, and Pavel Chekov respectively!"

"Holy shit, their costumes are perfect," Darcy mumbled, her eyes plastered to the seven students now creeping up the steps onto the stage, dressed in uniforms of either yellow, blue, or red.

Loki, having been forced to watch both recent _Star Trek_ movies as well, could attest to the accuracy of Darcy's statement.

The students, each armed with a prop-perfect phaser gun, now formed a tight circle up on stage, their backs to each other, scoping out the room as if looking for some invisible enemy. Suddenly, the girl portraying Chekov pointed at the double doors and yelled, "Keptin! The Klingons! They are there!"

And indeed, a group of about five Midgardians in truly heinous rubber masks was bursting through the doors, yelling in a language Loki did not understand. All at once, the Enterprise crew turned to face them, and then, they actually _fired_ their phasers. Seven bright-orange non-lethal-looking darts sailed over the heads of the audience and hit the "Klingons", who collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

"Excellent work, crew," said Captain Kirk.

"I do believe those Klingons will _not_ live long and prosper," said Mr. Spock.

"Good God, man," said Bones, shaking his head at the half-Vulcan.

"And Happy Halloween, everyone!" cried out Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov in unison, before the entire crew formed a line at the front of the stage, clasped hands, and took a bow.

The eruption of cheering, whistling, and clapping that followed was by far the biggest so far that night, but no one cheered, whistled, or clapped louder than Darcy and Thor.

"These guys are my new heroes!" Darcy yelled to Jane, who was not clapping and instead was looking slightly green.

The Enterprise crew were now exiting the stage, while the Klingons had gotten up off the floor and joined the audience. Vicky was about to read out the names of the next contestants.

"Jane!" Darcy breathed. "These guys were third! Which means _we're_—"

". . . and up next, we have two mortal sisters playing two immortal brothers . . . from another realm! Please welcome Darcy and Jane Selvig, or rather . . . _Lady Loki and Lady Thor_!"

"Wait," said Thor, looking perplexed. "'Selvig'?"

"They asked our last names too, so we had to improvise," Darcy said quickly. "Jane, come on!"

But the astrophysicist stood rooted to the spot, looking as if she might actually be sick. "Darce, we don't stand a chance," she muttered blankly. "Not after the show these Drama kids just put up."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane," Darcy said firmly, grasping her friend by the shoulder and beginning to march her toward the stage. "It's just stage fright. You'll get over it once you're actually _on_ the stage."

And with that, Darcy and Jane disappeared into the crowd of people and out of Loki and Thor's view.

"There they are!" Vicky said several seconds later, as Darcy and Jane came back into view by stage left. "Come on up, ladies, don't be shy," Vicky continued, smiling.

As per their routine, Darcy went up the steps before Jane, eyeing the audience with a contemptuous expression on her face that Loki himself had seen countless times in the mirror. A rustle of whispers and mumbling immediately swept through the crowd, and Loki could swear he heard someone in his vicinity mutter "Sweet spear". He smirked.

"Pathetic mortals," Darcy began, shooting daggers at the audience and pacing up and down the stage. "Gathered here like mindless lemmings. Blind. Useless. _Purpose_less. You are completely ignorant of the poor state of your governments, the incompetence of your so-called 'protectors', those puny _Avengers_. Indeed, you are happy simply to wallow in the filth of this unremarkable mud ball you call the Earth, so long as you can do it with your eyes closed."

_Oh, yes,_ Loki thought to himself, his smirk deepening. _She _is_ good._

"But thankfully, mortals, I have come to offer you your salvation. I have come to give you the _purpose_ in life which you so sorely lack. Fall in line behind me, and you _will_ . . . fall in line behind me, and together, we will achieve such greatness as you have never known. We will overthrow your governments, rid the world of the vermin known as the Avengers, and build a new, grander empire, and once we are done, you will be free to worship and serve me as your rightful queen, until such time as death dismisses you of your service."

Darcy paused. This was Jane's cue to come on stage, but the small scientist still stood, frozen, at the bottom of the stairs, staring out at the crowd, the expression on her face very much akin to that of a deer staring down the shaft of a hunter's arrow.

Darcy cleared her throat. "I said, _until such time as death dismisses you of your service_."

But again, nothing happened.

"Well, there goes all their preparation and planning," Loki said to Thor, feeling genuinely bad for the girls. And he was not sure whom he felt worse for, Jane, petrified, or Darcy, who would surely be adding tonight to her list of most embarrassing experiences.

But then, something miraculous happened. Jane blinked very rapidly, as if exiting a trance, and then, brandishing "Mjølnir", she ran forcefully up the steps and onto the stage.

"Not if I have anything to say about it, Sister!" she yelled at Darcy, in a not-half-bad imitation of Thor's booming tone.

A cheer of approval echoed around the room. Beside Loki, Thor breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"And who do you think you are that you believe you can threaten me, _Sister_?" Darcy asked, sneering.

Jane lifted Mjølnir high into the air. "I am Lady Thor, daughter of Odin, and defender of the Realms! And you shall not harm these mortals while they are under my protection!"

"Who said anything about _harming_ them?" Darcy drawled, rolling her eyes. "Now, harming _you_, on the other hand . . . ."

In a swift movement, Darcy raised her scepter and pointed it at Jane. At the same moment, Jane lowered Mjølnir, pointing it at Darcy.

Loki was ready.

The projected blasts, one Tesseract blue, one lightning white, collided between the two women and then ricocheted back, appearing to hit the two "goddesses" dead in the chest. Both Darcy and Jane fell over backward.

There was a communal gasp within the audience—some children actually screamed—but then, the entire room exploded with deafening applause. Apparently, the crowd thought that the performance was over. They could not have been more wrong.

Scrambling back onto their feet, Darcy and Jane glared at each other from the opposite ends of the stage.

"I do not want to hurt you, Sister!" Jane bellowed.

"That makes two of us," Darcy answered, though the smile on her face was definitely ironic, "as I do not wish to hurt me either."

With that, she fired another energy blast at Jane—the illusion once again provided by Loki of course—only to have Jane deflect it with her hammer.

"I do not wish to harm you, Sister," the Goddess of Thunder ground out through her teeth again, "but you leave me no goddamned choice!"

And now, Loki really had to concentrate on his projections.

The two goddesses began firing at each other at will, ducking out of the way of incoming blasts or else deflecting them. It was such a fast-paced part of Darcy and Jane's routine that no one other than Darcy, Jane, Loki, and Thor could have possibly followed its exact choreography.

Suddenly, Darcy collapsed to the floor, unmoving.

"Sister?" Jane panted, her hammer still pointed at the place where Darcy had stood.

But Darcy remained a motionless heap.

"_Sister!_" Jane cried out, rushing toward her fallen enemy.

But as soon as she was within two feet of Darcy, the latter sprang back to her feet, swinging her weapon as if it were a broadsword. The scepter collided—or rather appeared to collide—with the side of Jane's head, and the physicist did a pretty good show of throwing herself to the ground, even tossing the potato-masher Mjølnir aside as if it had been knocked out of her hand.

"You _missed_," Darcy hissed, looking truly mad as she stood over Jane, who was clutching at her head in an excellent imitation of agony. "You will never stop falling for my tricks, will you? Although . . . I suppose it does not matter anymore. Good riddance, _Sister_."

Darcy pointed her scepter at Jane's heart, and it was as if the whole room simultaneously stopped breathing. But Jane was reaching for her hammer, three feet away, and with the slightest amount of telekinesis, Loki pulled the potato masher across the stage and back into her hand. There was a flash of lightning, and Darcy came stumbling backward, away from Jane. Taking immediate advantage of the opportunity, Jane jumped back to her feet and, holding it in both hands, lifted her weapon high above her head again. The hammer appeared to grow white hot, and more lightning escaped from it, shooting into the ceiling. This was the sign that Mjølnir had reached its maximum potential.

"I am so sorry, Sister," Jane whispered, and holy Thanos's anuses, Loki could actually see tears glistening on her face.

This was the final moment of Darcy and Jane's performance. All that had to happen now was for Jane to lower the hammer and shoot a massive lightning bolt into Darcy's chest, effectively "killing" her. Loki prepared himself to project this last, all-important illusion.

What he did not prepare himself for was everything going terribly, horribly wrong.

Jane swung the hammer forward with unprecedented force, and either her grip on the potato masher was not tight enough or her hands had become slippery with sweat, but the utensil broke free from her grasp and went flying across the stage. Darcy ducked just barely in time, but the audience members behind her were not so lucky. The potato-masher Mjølnir hit Captain Kirk square in the forehead, before tumbling to the floor at his feet.

For a moment, the crowd was deathly silent. But then, the blond space captain gave out a roar of laughter, was quickly joined by his _Star Trek_ companions, and then was accompanied by just about everyone else in the room. Really, the only ones who were not laughing were Loki, Thor, Darcy, and Jane.

"They need to retrieve it before one of the mortal touches it!" Loki hissed at Thor, all the while craning his neck so as to get a better view of their beloveds.

Jane was frozen again, her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth, but thankfully, Darcy was on the move.

"I'll get it, I'll get it!" she screamed at the space captain, sprinting down the stage.

But it was too late. Captain Kirk bent down and picked up the hammer.

Darcy dropped to her knees at the edge of the stage and reached out her hand. "Give it here," she breathed.

But the captain was now staring at the hammer with an uncomprehending expression on his face. "Hey . . . what the hell . . . ? Why does this feel so weird?"

"Oh, no," Thor muttered.

"There—There's nothing weird about it, what—what are you talking about?" Darcy stammered, cringing.

"This doesn't even feel like a hammer," the captain continued, now fondling the weapon all over. "What is this, some kind of hologram?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about!" Darcy exclaimed, her pitch rising about three octaves.

"Stop fucking around, Sam, and give the girl back her prop," the student playing Uhura said hotly, stepping forward and wrenching the hammer out of Captain Kirk's hands. Her eyes popped. "_Holy shit_, what is this, a _potato masher_?"

"_Oh, no,_" Thor repeated, eloquent as ever.

Up on stage, Darcy was no longer attempting to argue with the Drama students, who were now passing the hammer around their entire group and discussing it loudly. Instead, she got back to her feet and fixed Loki with a stare that very plainly said "We need to get the fuck out of here."

Clearly, a diversion was in order, but how to produce one without either Loki or Thor giving away his powers? Especially when a throng 20 people wide separated Darcy and Jane from the main doors? Loki looked from the doors to the stage and back again, and suddenly, he had his answer.

Beside the doors hung a wall panel very much like the one that hung in Loki, Darcy, Thor, Jane, and Erik's apartment, although this one was considerably bigger. It was locked with a combination lock, and Loki was certain that what he would find upon opening it would be a set of breaker switches. Once, when the power in their apartment had gone out during a thunderstorm, Darcy had explained to him what those switches do and how they work.

Up on the stage, Vicky had come out of her corner and was attempting to talk to Jane, who looked stone gray. "Okay, the audience is dying to know: What kind of magic _is_ that hammer?"

Jane swayed on the spot, and Loki knew that the time to act was now.

It was simple telekinesis and only took him a moment to rip the cover off the panel and flip all the breakers at once. The windowless room was plunged into impenetrable darkness, and chaos ensued.

People yelled and laughed; children screamed; dinosaur boy resumed his wailing. Loki could not see anything—his Jotun night vision was of no help in darkness as total as this. Nevertheless, he proceeded onto the next step of his plan, which was to remove the projections from Darcy and Jane's clothes, Jane's potato masher, and Darcy's spatula. He was certain that without their holographic costumes, Darcy and Jane would not be recognized as they made their getaway.

Of course, the fact that he could not see continued to be a problem, and he knew that it was a problem for Darcy, Jane, and Thor as well. But just as he was beginning to regret having created this _particular_ kind of diversion, he saw light. Someone in the audience had turned on a cellphone and was using it as a light source, however meager. Seconds later, everyone was following suit, and that was when Loki remembered the cellphone in his own pocket, _Darcy's_ cellphone, which she had entrusted to him for the duration of their outing. He pulled it from his pocket now and, just as he had seen Darcy do before, activated its flashlight feature.

The first thing the light from the phone illuminated was Thor's worry-stricken face.

"Brother!" Thor cried out. "There you are!"

"Yes, where else would I be?" Loki asked patiently.

"I cannot see them, Brother! It is too dark!"

"You have Jane's cellphone, do you not? Use it."

Thor fumbled in his pocket for Jane's phone, which unfortunately did not have a flashlight feature, but the light cast off by its screen was still better than nothing. The two men directed their lights at the stage, but the only one who could be seen upon it was Vicky.

"Everyone, stay calm!" she was yelling. "We will figure out the lights in just a moment and will resume the competition!"

"We know what you're doing, Vicky, and we're not scared!" came Captain Kirk's voice, followed by his friends' raucous laughter.

"I still cannot see them," Thor muttered anxiously. "Why have we not spotted them by now?"

"Looking for someone?"

Relief flooded Loki as Darcy appeared suddenly at his side, grinning madly and dragging a pale-looking Jane behind herself.

"Let's get out of here," Loki said, and unnoticed, the four of them proceeded toward the doors and out of the room.

The light in the hallway was blinding compared to the near-darkness from which they had just emerged, but it was most welcome.

"Oh, you got rid of the projections?" Darcy asked, clearly only just now noticing the lack of her and Jane's godly attire. Underneath the now-lifted illusions, both women wore jeans and warm winter sweaters.

"Yes," Loki said. "I figured that you two might appreciate the opportunity to blend in. Also, here is your phone."

"Thank you," Darcy said, taking back her communication device and stuffing it in her jeans pocket. "And I suppose I won't be needing _this_ anymore." She waved her spatula, now just that—a spatula, before tossing it into the nearest garbage bin.

"Here is your cellphone, my love," Thor said to Jane, holding out the device to her.

Jane, trailing slowly behind Darcy, ignored him.

"Was it you who shut off the lights, Jazz Hands?" Darcy asked, beginning to grin again. "It totally seems like something you'd have thought of."

They exited the building, and crisp, refreshing night air met them.

"Yeah, it was me," Loki said with a small smile. "There was a breaker panel on the wall, so I did as you had taught me."

"Then it appears I'd taught you well," Darcy said smugly.

"How soon is the next boat, Darcy?" Thor asked, watching Jane with an apprehensive expression on his face.

Darcy whipped out her phone and checked the river-bus schedule quickly. "Fifteen minutes," she said. "We better get a move on."

They were about halfway down King William Walk when Jane began to giggle. It was unlike any sound that Loki had ever heard the woman emit before—high pitched, forceful, and a little maniacal. He, as well as Darcy and Thor, actually had to come to a full stop in order to address this new development.

"My love, what is it?" Thor asked, gently placing his hands on Jane's shoulders and attempting to look her in the eyes.

Unfortunately, Jane paid him no attention and only giggled harder, louder, and more hysterically.

"Good God, what's wrong with her?" Darcy asked, looking slightly frightened.

"_Darcy,_" Jane spluttered suddenly through her laughter. "We almost _got caught_, Darcy."

"Jane, it's okay. We didn't get caught—"

"_I THREW MY __MJØLNIR AT CAPTAIN KIRK._" Jane was laughing so hard now that there were tears streaming down her face again. "_I HIT HIM RIGHT IN THE HEAD._"

"We know that it was an accident, Miss Foster," Loki attempted cautiously. "No one blames you for what happened."

"_What was I thinking?_" Jane raved on, oblivious to everything and everybody around her. "_Using magic in front of regular people? I'm a genius! FOUR NOBEL PRIZES FOR YOU, JANE FOSTER. YOU GO, JANE FOSTER._"

"We are not taking the boat," Thor said grimly. "Darcy, could you call us a cab, please?"

"Yeah, of course," Darcy said in reply, looking thankful to be able to do _something_ to help.

As Darcy dialed one of London's taxicab companies, Thor put his arm around Jane's back and led her to the nearest park bench. With a bit of coaxing, he got her to sit upon the bench, then got down on one knee in front of her, took her hands into his own, and shut his eyes. He opened them again about a minute later.

"She is in shock," he said, getting up from the ground and sitting down on the bench beside his beloved. "She needs rest." He put his arm around Jane once more, and still giggling quietly, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Did you just . . . use _empathy_ on her?" Loki asked incredulously. He had never seen Thor perform this kind of magic before.

"Yes," Thor replied quietly. "Father taught me."

"Of course he did," Loki said, dropping onto the bench beside his adoptive brother unceremoniously. He felt a strange, perverse pleasure at having discovered this new similarity between father and son, as if it further excused his occasional mistreatment of the thunder god.

"Cab will be here in twenty minutes," Darcy said, having just gotten off the phone. "Busy night for them apparently. How . . . . How is she doing?"

"She is fine," Thor answered with a weak smile. "In shock, but she will recover."

Darcy sat down on the bench beside Loki heavily. "What a fucking night," she muttered.

"Agreed," Loki said. "That was a disaster."

"What?" Darcy asked, turning to stare at the mischief god in surprise. "No, that was _hilarious_. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on that kid's face after he got hit with that potato masher."

"_I_ threw it!" Jane chimed in suddenly. "I threw the Mjølnir!"

"Yes, we know, my love," Thor told her, running his hand down her hair soothingly. "Just try to relax now, all right?"

"Okay," Jane mumbled, settling back down against Thor's shoulder.

And slowly, gradually, her giggling subsided. They were then even blessed with a period of perfect silence, but as all good things, that came to an end. The scientist stirred again, and a look of horror immediately descended upon her face. She groaned loudly, sat up, and then buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, my God," she mumbled from behind her hands, sounding stricken.

"Welcome back, Boo-Boo," Darcy said, grinning at her superior from across Loki's chest. "How was the foray into lunacy?"

"Shoot me now and bury me in an unmarked grave, I am _so_ embarrassed," Jane answered, refusing to uncover her face.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Thor said, rubbing Jane's back reassuringly. "Shock will overtake the best of us."

"Yes, but not all of us will turn into raving lunatics because of it," Jane muttered, letting her head drop back against Thor's shoulder. "I'm taking a timeout until the taxi gets here. Just pretend I don't exist for now."

Another blissful silence ensued, and Loki sat back and watched the mortals passing by. There were far more of them in costume on the street now than earlier, most of them heading to the pier, the mischief god assumed.

Of course, as soon as he was more or less relaxed again, something else had to come and disturb him: A child in a pumpkin costume broke away from his father and came waddling toward the group on the bench, a bag half filled with candy swaying in his hands in front of him.

"Trick or treat!" the child squeaked, holding his bag up to Thor.

"Oh, I am afraid I have no treats to give to you, little one," Thor said, looking genuinely very sorry.

"Oh," the child said. His brow furrowed, and Loki could just imagine the gears turning slowly in that silly little noodle of his. And then, the child did something completely unexpected: He reached into his candy bag and pulled out a treat, looked at the treat consideringly for a moment, and then placed it into Thor's hand.

Looking delighted beyond words, Thor accepted it.

"Happy Halloween, mister!" the boy chirruped, and then waddled away back to his waiting father.

"What a sweet child," Thor remarked, watching Pumpkin Boy and his father continue down the street with a huge grin on his face.

"I want one," Jane murmured. ". . . And a girl."

Her words came so unexpectedly that Loki could not help but turn and outright stare at her, and neither could Darcy and Thor.

"My . . . . My love?" Thor stuttered, the expression on his face that of guarded hopefulness.

Jane, who had been looking out at some unidentifiable point in the distance, completely oblivious to the looks that she was receiving, suddenly snapped out of her trance, looked around at Thor with severe embarrassment on her face, and turned pink. "I don't mean _now_—" she stammered quickly. "I meant down the line—In the future sometime—" She broke off, turning redder by the second.

"Then it shall happen," Thor said gently, though he looked about ready to scream with joy. He pulled Jane closer to him still and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"Congrats, guys," Darcy said, though there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Just don't ask me to babysit. Because I won't."

"Oh," Thor said, his face falling slightly. "How come?"

"Don't take it personally, Sweetheart," Jane said tartly. "Darcy just doesn't like kids."

"They're dirty, needy, and loud," Darcy said matter-of-factly. "Just like dogs, now that I think of it."

"I love dogs!" Thor thundered, clearly failing to take Jane's advice. "You and my brother are just the same: _crazy_."

"You don't like dogs either, Jazz Hands?" Darcy asked, turning to Loki and looking as if she were suppressing a major laughing fit.

"Or children," Loki answered, smirking.

Behind Darcy, Thor shook his head judgmentally, and Loki knew it was not only because he had just admitted to disliking two of the thunder god's favorite things. But the other reason did not matter.

No, it did not matter that Darcy might very well be Loki's soulmate, because one thing to the mischief god was certain: Unlike Thor and Jane, he and Darcy were simply not meant to be.

* * *

**EDITED to correct a typo, yay. :P**


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy (very belated) Christmas and New Year and (slightly early) Valentine's Day, everyone! I guess this chapter is my gift to you?!**

**P.S. Loki's song right now is totally "Demons" by Imagine Dragons.**

* * *

Before Darcy knew it, Halloween was long gone, Thanksgiving was over, and even Christmas had jingled all its bells. It was the afternoon of New Year's Eve in London, and on this celebratory winter's day, Darcy's thoughts were ironically rather glum.

It was the first New Year's Eve of her life during which instead of thinking bright, hopeful thoughts about the year to come, she found herself haunted by thoughts of the year that would soon reach its end. Not that it hadn't been a relatively good year for the planet as a whole. After three consecutive ones, it had been the first year without a single alien invasion, for example. But of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen, and HYDRA had reared its ugly head once more, but the head had been severed in a matter of days, and while the now-headless snake had indeed managed to crawl back into its hole, taking with it Loki's scepter and gods only knew what other alien weaponry, Thor and the other Avengers were certain that they would soon find and eradicate the snake nest for good.

There were more positives too: Asgard had been freed of Loki's unjust rule, and more importantly, Loki had then chosen to be banished to Earth. Now, a year ago Darcy would've never considered the latter to be a good thing, but there was simply no denying the fact that Loki had been nothing but extremely helpful since his arrival on the planet. He had warned Thor about Thanos, had helped Jane and Erik reconfigure and finish Project S.E.E.R., and had stated multiple times that he would fight alongside Earth and Asgard should a war with Thanos ever come to pass. And even if it never did, Darcy strongly doubted that he would wish to make a renewed enemy of the two realms that had shown him such unconditional mercy.

But what Darcy knew, what she had realized and what had put her in this entirely non-holiday-spirited funk, was that she had played no part in changing the world for the better this year. While Thor had had his Avenging and Jane, Loki, and Erik had had their science-slash-magic (depending on how one chose to look at it), Darcy had had coffee runs, transcribing Jane's notes and equations, and occasionally providing IT support when a computer would freeze or crash. But the truth was that Jane, Thor, Loki, and Erik could have accomplished everything that they had even without Darcy's involvement, which to Darcy said only one thing: She had been useless all year. And that was not okay.

The problem was that she had known since around age 12 that someday she wanted to change the world. And she had realized even at that young age that her best shot at doing so was to infiltrate the dark, sketchy, and often treacherous world of politics. And for the following nine years, she had worked relentlessly to help herself reach this goal. She had understood the importance of her education, so she had exceled in high school and had busted her ass all throughout college. But it had been a year now since she had graduated from her program, and in this year she had done absolutely nothing to further her goal. The logical next step was obviously to move back to the US and look for a job in her field, but the truth was that Darcy just didn't think she could bear to go at the world _alone_ all over again. And so, here she was, forever forced to choose between either doing what was important to her or being with the people who were important to her.

And speaking of people who were important to her . . . there was still the issue of Loki. Darcy had long since sworn to herself that her happiness would never depend on any man, but Jesus damn it, would it ever help right now if Loki could just return her feelings for him. Ugh, "feelings". "Feelings" was probably an understatement of what she was truly experiencing for that sarcastic little shit. Hell, if it weren't for the knowledge that she could never, ever be with him, she would probably be fully in love with him by now. But she knew that he did not feel the same way. She knew because she knew that _he_ knew exactly how she felt about him. She'd been a total dumbass to have given herself away as she had done, a complete idiot, but there was no taking back the fact that Loki had teased her with a kiss and she had utterly and completely fallen for it. But although that incident must've doubtlessly made him realize that she wanted him and wanted him badly, he had since then made no attempt to make a real and honest move on her, and so, Darcy had come to an unfortunate but realistic conclusion: He wasn't interested.

And it had hurt. A lot. But slowly, gradually, the raw pain of it had subsided until it had become just this dull, ever-present ache at the back of her chest. She could only hope that she would get used to it someday, because her attraction to Loki wasn't showing sign of going away any time soon . . . .

"You can still go," the god in question was currently saying from across the main living area. "I honestly will not hold it against you if you do."

He was stretched out on the small couch that stood by the bookshelf, a copy of George R. R. Martin's _A Dance with Dragons_ held open in his hands, and when Darcy looked at him, she was forced to suppress a giggle. This had been a recurring phenomenon since the morning of Christmas Eve, when Darcy, Jane, Erik, and Thor had first convinced the god to put on what he was still wearing now: a fluffy midnight-blue sweater with snowflakes . . . and with an oversized print of Queen Elsa's face on the front.

"It is your first Jul on Midgard, Brother," Thor replied to Loki defensively, "and I already told you that I am not leaving you for it. Do you have any twos?"

"And I already said that I'm not going if Thor's not going," Jane added. "Go fish, Sweetheart."

Of course, convincing Loki that wearing ridiculous Christmas sweaters was a sacred Midgardian yuletide tradition had had its consequences, as was being made apparent by the current attire of everyone else in the apartment. Indeed, leading by example had been the only way that Darcy, Jane, Erik, and Ian had been able to convince Thor to don _his_ first ugly Christmas sweater the year before, but it had worked so well that this year Thor had been at the forefront of swaying Loki to the jolly side, even going as far as to threaten to banish the mischief god from the planet for not abiding by its people's "holy and ancient rituals".

And now the thunder god was wearing a fluffy turquoise Princess Anna sweater with pink hearts, while his most logical and intellectual girlfriend, sitting across from him at the computer bar, wore a Kristoff-and-icepicks sweater that was such an outrageous shade of tangerine, it actually hurt Darcy's eyes a little.

"Darcy? Erik?" Loki continued. "If you wish to go, then go. Know that I am not holding you back in any way."

"Ah, but you forget that I'm not the party-going type, boy," Erik said from his seat at the kitchen table, which was currently stacked so high with exam papers, they had almost entirely obscured his fluffy purple Sven-and-carrots sweater. "I didn't go last year either. And besides, I have far too many midterms left to grade before the end of the holidays to be able to afford to do much of anything else at the moment. But if Darcy wants to go, and if she manages to catch a last-minute flight to New York . . . ."

The whole dilemma of the day had been caused by the fact that Darcy, Jane, Thor, and Erik had all been invited to Tony Stark's annual New Year's Eve Stark Tower bash, but Thor's refusal to leave Loki alone for the holiday had ultimately ended up meaning that no one was going to the party at all. And although Loki was trying to act as aloof and indifferent as ever, Darcy knew that such self-sacrifice on everyone's part had made him feel guilty.

"Ohhh, noooo, I'm not showing my face at a Stark party for another two years at least," the feisty research assistant lied now.

Loki actually put down his book and looked at her. "Why?"

Darcy feigned embarrassment. "Because when Thor, Jane, Ian, and I went last year, I got smashed, puked on the carpet, broke a timeless Mayan vase, tried making out with Clint Barton, and in the end, Ian had to _carry_ me to our room."

This wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the reason why Darcy didn't want to go to the party tonight. The truth was that she, like Thor, wanted to spend Loki's first New Year's Eve on Earth at his side. But there was no denying the fact that between the quiet reading, the boring exam-grading, and the dull Go Fish, tonight promised to be a very uneventful New Year's indeed.

"Sounds like a fun night to me," Loki said, smirking,

"You wouldn't be saying that had you been in my shoes the following _morning_," Darcy replied, glowering at the mischief god down the bridge of her nose.

The bespectacled brunette was on her laptop, sitting at the computer desk across from Loki's couch, and had just finished reading an online _The Telegraph_ article on renewed political tensions in Sokovia. Sighing, she returned to the main page of _The Telegraph_'s website and began scrolling through the other top stories.

"Holy shit, guys?" she said about five seconds later.

"Yes, Darce?" Jane said, turning around in her seat.

"There's like . . . fireworks tonight," Darcy said. "At the Ferris wheel."

"What, really?" Jane said, raising her eyebrows. "I didn't know that. Why don't we go then?"

"Well, that's what I was thinking," Darcy said, clicking on the article. "Says here they start right after Big Ben chimes midnight."

"Oh, wow, that should be amazing!" Jane said, now smiling excitedly. "What do you think, Sweetheart?" she said to Thor.

"Must you even ask, my love?" Thor answered, grinning. "Never in my life have I _not_ loved fireworks."

"_Loco,_" Darcy barked, turning to the God of Lies now. "You are coming tonight, and I don't wanna hear anything to the contrary."

Loki responded with a noncommittal grunt from the couch.

"_Jazz Hands . . . ._" Darcy said threateningly.

"Mmmh," Loki said.

Darcy crossed her arms and glared at him, but she could only look at his Elsa sweater for so long before it started burning her eyes with its ugliness and she had to look down. Which didn't help much, considering she now found herself staring at her own hideous Christmas sweater: a fluffy highlighter-yellow one with Olaf's grinning face on the front and pairs of black sunglasses printed all over the rest of it.

But then, Darcy had a rather sneaky idea.

It had of course been she who had initiated the wearing of the Christmas sweaters this year and the year before, making up the lie that it was a "sacred human tradition" in order to get Thor and Loki on the bandwagon, and that, she now realized, had had to have given her some authority on the subject of traditional holiday wear in general. With this and the knowledge of how much Loki hated wearing his Elsa sweater in mind, Darcy came up with a plan on how to hopefully get the stubborn mischief god to come to the fireworks tonight after all.

"Fine, don't go," she began by telling the god dismissively. "I guess you like wearing that Elsa sweater more than you let on."

"What does my sweater have to do with some fireworks?" Loki asked, though he didn't even lift his eyes from the book he was reading.

"Oh, only everything," Darcy said casually, pretending to continue browsing the Web on her laptop. "Or don't you know that you're supposed to dress nicely when going out for New Year's?" She was aware that Jane, Thor, and Erik were all listening to her closely.

"What are you on about, Little Mortal?" Loki asked, finally taking the bait and looking up from his book.

Over at the kitchen table, Erik snickered loudly. Darcy threw him a warning look, and the graying scientist immediately masked his snicker with a cough and, smirking, returned to his grading.

"What I'm saying," Darcy continued matter-of-factly, "is that if you end up going out with us tonight, that sweater just won't cut it. You'll have to change into something nicer. And once you take off the sweater for New Year's, you won't have to put it back on again. But otherwise you're gonna be stuck wearing it until the end of the holidays."

For a moment Loki looked truly terrified by the prospect, but then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You did not simply make up this whole sweater business to ridicule myself and Thor, did you?" he asked Darcy distrustfully.

"Uhm," Darcy said, exchanging a worried look with Jane.

"How _dare_ you, Brother?" Thor boomed suddenly. "How would you feel if Darcy questioned _our_ traditions like that? This realm is our home now, so we must respect the laws and customs of its unique and wonderful people!"

_Gods bless you, Thunder Wonder,_ Darcy thought to herself, then wondered how the mighty Thor was going to take it when he would inevitably find out that making up this whole sweater business to ridicule Loki and him was exactly what Darcy had done.

"Don't worry about the fireworks, boy," Erik added, addressing Loki. "If you don't want to go, then don't go. So you'll have to wear the sweater for another weekend, so what? I did it last year, and I survived, didn't I?"

"I'm going," Loki said quickly.

Around the room, Darcy, Jane, and Erik all exchanged knowing smirks.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It rained for most of the day, though by 10:00 p.m., when Darcy disappeared into her bedroom to change and get ready for the fireworks, the rain had subsided, leaving the air outside mild but the sky cloudy. Unlike the weather, however, Darcy had no idea of what to change into.

She was going through her closet for about the fifth time in a row, wondering just what kind of idea she'd put in Loki's head when she had said that they would have to "dress nicely" tonight. Was he expecting everyone to just wear nice casual clothes, or to go decked out in full-out formal wear? What did she even _want_ to wear? Nothing in her closet was speaking to her, that was for sure, but what other options did she have?

And then she remembered it. The box that lay stowed away under her sofabed, untouched since she had placed it there back in August. She procured it now, carefully wiping off the dust that had settled on the lid, and placed it on the sofa. Holding her breath, she opened it.

The dress was every bit as beautiful as she had remembered it to be. The dark-purple silk of the bodice and skirt, the delicate lace sleeves, the detail of the minuscule glass beads, it all still took her breath away just as it had done when she had first laid her eyes on the garment.

Unfortunately, and as much as she had wanted to, she had had no occasion to wear the dress in all the months since she had bought it, but now, somehow, it seemed like the only choice that made sense. So now, giving herself no chance to change her mind, she quickly took the dress out of its box and proceeded to change into it.

She bit her lip as she examined herself in the mirror of her dresser. She wasn't sure if it was only in contrast to the Olaf sweater and the sweatpants that she was wearing just before, but _damn_, she looked good. Like she was going to an actual New Year's Eve party. Feeling marginally more enthused about the current state of her life, she decided that if she was going to go at all, she might as well go all out.

She proceeded to quickly brush her hair, which already fell naturally in smooth, elegant waves (and which saved her the trouble of doing much more to it than brushing to make it look presentable). Next came the makeup, and unlike the hair, this promised to be a grueling undertaking indeed. Nevertheless, opening the black leather-quilted makeup box that sat on top of her dresser, Darcy began to go through the numerous eyeshadows which she had borrowed (permanently) from Jane.

"Aha," she said several seconds later, pulling out glitter purple and glitter magenta from the box. Eyeshadow wasn't exactly her forte in the makeup department, but tonight she had a damn good idea for a look and she was determined to make it work. Getting out her makeup brushes, she opened up the glitter purple and proceeded to apply it to her eyelids only. Next, she applied the glitter magenta to just above her eyelids, so that it fanned out onto and gradually faded across her browbones. Finally, she blended the two colors at their meeting points in the creases of her lids, and then took a step back from the mirror to have a general look at the final product.

The colors turned out to have been an excellent choice, as they not only complemented Darcy's dress, but also brought out her dark-blue eyes. Feeling intensely satisfied with the result, she decided to finish off the look with black mascara and winged eyeliner.

The only thing left for her to apply now was her favorite magenta lipstick, and just a dab of glitter gloss. As for jewelry, she normally didn't wear any at all, but for the purposes of tonight she decided to go with a pair of sapphire stud earrings (fake sapphires of course, who was she kidding?) just to make her eyes pop that tiny little bit extra.

As for her bag and shoes, she had picked out both a long time ago. The purse was a black beaded clutch with a wrist strap, and the shoes were black glitter pumps with wedge heels. After putting her phone, wallet, bus pass, headphones, and lip gloss into the clutch, and having taken one final look at herself in the mirror, she put on her shoes and headed out of the room.

And then she stopped dead in her tracks.

Loki was waiting for her just outside her bedroom door. Jane and Thor were there too, wearing jeans and light jackets and currently engrossed in lively conversation with each other, but Darcy had eyes only for her God of Mischief. It appeared that he had indeed taken "nice" to mean "formal", because he had dressed himself in a black blazer and a pair of slim-fitting black dress pants, shined black dress shoes that Darcy had not even known he possessed, an ice-blue silk dress shirt, and a textured black skinny tie. And unsurprisingly, he looked _amazing_. Darcy wasn't sure if it was because she was seeing him out of his Elsa sweater for the first time in a week, but she had seriously never been more attracted to him. She couldn't even fucking breathe.

Oddly enough, as he looked at her, Loki didn't appear to be breathing either.

"Oh, there you are, Darce," Jane said, blinking at her research assistant, clearly only just now having noticed her standing there.

The sound of her voice was like a bucketful of cold water spilling onto Darcy's head. Both she and Loki exhaled sharply, and Darcy felt as though she'd just been woken from a trance.

"Holy crap, you too?" Jane continued, now goggling at Darcy's outfit incredulously. "Have you and Loki been invited to a secret ball that Thor and I don't know about? Because I thought we were just going to see the fireworks."

"Um," Darcy said.

"Don't answer that," Jane said. "Hey, where's Erik?"

Darcy nodded at the kitchen table, where the top of Erik's blond-gray head was just visible over the veritable mountainful of papers now piled there.

"Oh," Jane said, looking confused. "Erik, are you just about ready to leave?" she called out to the professor.

Erik peeked his head around the giant pile of papers, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm afraid I can't go anywhere tonight, my dear," he said to Jane apologetically. "Not if I want to finish grading these before Monday."

There was a general outcry of disappointment from Darcy, Jane, and Thor, but Erik remained unwavering in his decision to stay behind and continue grading.

"I don't want to hear it!" he said eventually, waving them away. "Go, or you won't find a nice spot from which to watch the fireworks!"

"Is everyone else ready to go?" Jane asked, though she continued casting plaintive glances at Erik.

"Yes," Darcy and Loki said together.

"Of course, my love," Thor said comfortingly.

"All right, let's head out then," Jane said. She made a movement as if to turn toward the apartment door, but then froze, staring at Darcy's feet in horror. "Dear Lord, Darce, what are you wearing?" she demanded.

"Uh . . . shoes?" Darcy said, utterly befuddled.

"Yes, but they're _high heels_, and we're _walking_," Jane elaborated. "Your feet are gonna be dead by the end of the night."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "They're _wedges_, Jane. Wedges don't hurt your feet. I'll be fine, so let's go."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Darcy's feet were killing her. She, Loki, Jane, and Thor had been en route to the fireworks viewing area along Victoria Embankment, which ran down the north bank of the River Thames and would place them exactly across the water from the London Eye and the fireworks display, for about twenty minutes now, but had only just reached Trafalgar Square, which on a regular night would've taken them a maximum of ten minutes. The reason for the abysmal slowness of their progress was the fact that the streets in their entire neighborhood were positively packed with people. Roads had actually been closed to traffic in their area, so pedestrians had full reign of everything south of the A40, and yet so many of the people milling about seemed to be so fucking pissed off about something, Darcy had to wonder just what exactly on _New Year's Eve_ of all days could've possibly set them off. _And_ she was seriously tired of these moody-ass fucking passersby nearly knocking her off her feet every time they'd unceremoniously shove past her.

Halfway across the roundabout on the southern side of the square, an Eminem-wannabe-looking punk ran into Darcy's shoulder so hard, she very nearly rolled an ankle as she went stumbling backward again. And this time around, she decided that she's had quite enough,

"_Seriously?_" she bellowed after the kid. "What is _wrong_ with you people? You'd think New Year's got canceled or something!"

To her surprise, the kid actually stopped and turned around at her outburst. "Might as well be though, mightn't it?" he said bitterly, shrugging.

Darcy stared at him blankly. "What?" she said.

"Oh, I assume you lot have tickets," the punk said tersely.

"Tickets to _what_?" Darcy snapped, her confusion beginning to turn into annoyance.

"The bloody fireworks of course," the Eminem wannabe supplied impatiently. "Or haven't you noticed the fucking barricades everywhere?"

Darcy, Loki, Jane, and Thor looked around the roundabout, and Darcy's heart sank. Access to the street that they had been planning to take down to Victoria Embankment, Northumberland Avenue, had indeed been entirely blocked off by temporary fencing. Whitehall meanwhile had been blocked off but for a single gate, currently closed, with several security guards milling about it, answering pedestrians' questions and directing them away.

"We need . . . _tickets_ . . . to be able to see the fireworks?" Jane ground out several seconds later. She looked quite white.

The kid laughed out loud, looking oddly gruntled by Jane's question. "Bloody hell, you lot didn't know either! No, you cannot watch the fireworks without tickets. Not from anywhere that'd be worth it at least."

Jane didn't reply, which Darcy knew was a testament to how pissed off the Boss Lady was feeling. Darcy hadn't realized how invested Jane had become in watching the fireworks, and now felt all kinds of awful.

"And do you know where we might be able to purchase said tickets?" Thor asked discount Eminem politely. At least the God of Thunder hadn't lost all hope.

"Yeah," the kid said. "Nowhere. They're all sold out. Spoke to one of the guards at the gate, and he said, and I quote, 'If you don't got a ticket, you might as well go home, mate.' So I don't know about you four, but I'm gonna go home, roll myself a spliff, and watch some _Mr. Bean_. Happy fucking New Year." And with that, the kid turned on his heel and continued on his way across the roundabout.

Looking furious, Jane rounded on Darcy. "_Ticketed_ fireworks, Darce? _Really?_ Did you just _skip_ over that part in the article you were reading?"

"I didn't read the whole thing . . . ." Darcy answered truthfully.

"Why am I not surprised?" Jane rambled on, throwing her arms up in the air exasperatedly. "It's like you haven't been fully _here_ these past few days. Where is your _head_, Darce? Where is—"

"How do we know the tickets have truly been all sold out?" Loki interjected, cutting off Jane's rant. "Surely we aren't taking that hooded delinquent at his word?"

"Excellent thought, Brother!" Thor exclaimed, clearly still refusing to give up hope. "Is there not a way to find out, Darcy?"

"On it," Darcy said. She whipped her iPhone out of her clutch, but a quick Internet search yielded even worse news than that with which the punk had provided them. "Oh, no . . . ." she muttered.

Thor's face fell. "What is it?"

"The tickets _are_ sold out," Darcy said miserably. "Been so for a while now. But what's worse, even if Jazz Hands could take something and make it _look_ like tickets, they wouldn't let us through to the viewing area anyway, because access to the restricted areas even for ticket-holders was cut off about an hour ago."

Jane crossed her arms and glowered at her research assistant, but refrained from any more angry outbursts. Loki looked like someone who would very much like to help, but who was out of ideas and was therefore very sorry.

"Then I shall force my way through the barricades!" Thor declared passionately. "No fence can hold back the son of Odin!"

"No, but the half-dozen guards who will undoubtedly try to stop you might," Loki deadpanned.

Thor appeared to contemplate this for a moment, then said, "Then you will use your magic to render me invisible, Brother! The guards will not see me then!"

"No, they will not," Loki conceded. "But they will still hear you destroying their fence, which I am sure will be far less suspicious," he added sarcastically.

"Then we can climb over the fence," Thor attempted again, a note of desperation in his voice now. "Soundlessly."

"Sorry, Thunder Wonder, but I'm not climbing over any fences in this dress," Darcy said miserably. "But maybe we can go somewhere else? There have to be places from which we could watch the fireworks for free, there just _have_ to be."

"It's eleven thirty, Darce," Jane snapped irritably, looking at her watch. "Even if we leave now, the chances of us finding a location in time are close to nil."

"Well, excuse me for trying!" Darcy snapped back, growing tired of Jane's attitude. "I'm sorry if I can't plan things as perfectly as you can, but at least Loki, Thor, and I are trying to think of a solution!"

"Oh, just face it already!" Jane retorted hotly. "Unless we can, I don't know, climb onto the rooftop of some building or something, we're not watching any damned fireworks tonight!"

Darcy's mouth fell open. "Holy shit, Jane, that's genius!" she said, scanning the buildings surrounding them. "So kinda like that one?" she asked, pointing at a highrise a short distance away behind them and to the right. Even though it was by no means a skyscraper, it was still the tallest building Darcy could see in their immediate vicinity.

"Dear Lord, Darcy, I wasn't being serious," Jane said, looking at Darcy as if the bespectacled brunette had just suggested they go streaking across Trafalgar Square.

Utterly befuddled, Darcy exchanged a look with Loki and Thor. To her relief, they looked just as confused as she felt.

"Um . . . why not, my love?" Thor inquired carefully.

Jane looked as if her brain cells had just suffered massive casualties. "Because that would be _breaking and entering_, and that's _illegal_?" she hissed. "Because that could get us _arrested_, which, considering who we are, would be very, very _bad_?"

"Not if we don't get caught." Loki said smugly.

Jane rolled her eyes. "And what if we do?"

"We _won't_," Darcy said. "I mean, think about who you're with, Jane. Wreck-It Ralph,"—she indicated Thor—"Houdini,"—she nodded at Loki—"and moi, who's been breaking into places since motherfucking _college_."

"Right," Jane answered sarcastically. "And if I recall correctly, it all ended with you getting arrested."

"_That is not the point,_" Darcy said quickly. "The point is _fireworks_, Jane. Grand, beautiful fireworks spewing out of the London Eye as Big Ben chimes midnight, all seen from the best viewing spot in all of London. Are you really going to pass that up?"

Jane glared at Darcy for several long seconds, then sighed loudly. "All right, let's go. But if we get arrested, I'm killing you all."

"See, I knew you had it in you, you little rebel," Darcy said, grinning at her Boss Lady wickedly, which actually managed to coax a small smile out of Jane in return.

Keeping the highrise in sight as a visual guide, they set off back across the roundabout and then onto Cockspur Street. Darcy had forgotten how badly her feet were hurting her, but putting them back into action certainly served to remind her of that.

"So what are you psychopaths thinking?" Jane asked as the building loomed ever closer. "How are we gonna get up onto that rooftop?"

"I'm thinking the same way the Dark Elves got onto the rooftop of our building," Darcy answered.

"A fire escape?" Loki said skeptically. "I do not think this building has one, Little Mortal."

"Not every building has an emergency staircase on the outside, Jazz Hands," Darcy said, "but there _should_ be one."

What to Darcy's throbbing feet felt like an eternity later (even though she knew that in reality it was just a few minutes), they arrived at the highrise. It looked even taller now, about twenty stories high, Darcy had to say. A sign above the main entrance on the eastern side of the building read "NEW ZEALAND HOUSE".

"'_New Zealand House_'?" Jane read out loud. "What does that even mean? What is this place?"

"No idea," Darcy said, "but I do know that if we're gonna break in, we're not gonna do so through the main entrance. Come on, there's gotta be a back door here somewhere."

They continued along the southern side of the building, and just as Darcy began thinking that her feet might literally fall off, they reached a driveway leading up to the building and culminating in a closed garage door.

"Aha!" Darcy said triumphantly, bringing the group to a stop.

"Uh, Darce?" Jane asked uncertainly. "Doesn't that just lead to an underground parking garage?"

"The driveway?" Darcy said. "Sure. But what about that double door beside it? I dunno about you, but to me it looks like it'd make the perfect exit for an emergency staircase."

Out of nowhere, a strange and refreshing chill descended upon Darcy's body, enveloping every inch of her in a pleasant, mist-like coolness, and simultaneously, she felt that tingling sensation that she normally felt whenever Thor or Loki used magic around her.

"I have just rendered us invisible to any outside eyes," Loki informed the group casually. "Be sure to speak softly now, for I cannot simultaneously bend light and redirect sound."

"Damn, Jazz," Darcy said, grinning. "Can you always be this on the ball? I was _just_ about to point out the two security cameras."

"Those devices are no longer of any concern to us," Loki said smugly.

"Then let's go," Darcy said, undeniably excited.

Smirking amusedly, Loki stepped aside to allow her to take the lead. Confidently, the vivacious brunette took one limping step forward, but then, suddenly, it hit her: the horrible realization that they were about to climb about twenty flights of stairs. In one go. Her legs nearly gave out at the mere thought of it.

"Uh, say, Jazz Hands," she said, coming to a stop and turning to the mischief god again, "why are we even breaking and entering? I mean, can't you just . . . _poof_ us onto the rooftop or something?"

"You mean space-shift?" Loki asked, looking at her oddly. "I am afraid it does not work like that, Little Mortal."

"And why not?" Darcy demanded immediately. "I thought the rule is that objects can't be teleported in parts?"

"That is one of the rules, yes," Loki answered, nodding.

"_One_ of the rules?" Darcy inquired skeptically. "You know, Jazz Hands, sometimes I wonder if you make these rules up as you go along, just because you're too lazy to do magic . . . ."

Loki actually chuckled at that. "I am not making this up, Little Mortal. And you are perfectly correct in stating that in magic, at least in the Asgardian magic that I learned from my mother, objects may only be space-shifted as wholes. But that is only one of the three fundamental laws of teleportation. The second is that one may not teleport living things. Not a single bacterium. Which makes what you are asking me to do . . . a bit problematic. And the third is that the mass of the object or objects that one is teleporting must be _smaller_ than one's own mass. So even if I were to go ahead and kill the three of you first, I would only be able to teleport the bodies of yourself and Jane, not Thor. Unless of course I were to first cleave Thor's body in half by means _other_ than teleportation—"

"_Oookaaay,_" Darcy said, cutting Loki off. "Way to be disappointing _and_ morbid, Jazz Hands."

"And you can't teleport Mjølnir," Jane said out of nowhere, looking at Loki peculiarly.

"No, I cannot," Loki admitted, looking back at Jane testily. "And it isn't for lack of trying," he added under his breath.

Jane smirked triumphantly, and on that note, the group took another step forward . . . only for Darcy to come to another cringing stop.

"Okay, but what about telekinesis then?" she said, turning on Loki once again.

"What about it?" Loki asked patiently.

"Well, can't you use it to just _fly_ us up to the rooftop?" Darcy said. "Or are there stupid laws that prevent you from doing that too?

Loki rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Only that I wouldn't be able to lift myself. Otherwise, my telekinesis is as strong as I am physically."

"And physically, you are strong enough to lift me, Jane, and Thor, aren't you?" Darcy asked hopefully.

"Yes, of course," Loki said, looking a little taken aback by the question. "But with magic it is not only a question of strength, but also a question of concentration, as in how much concentration would it take for me to lift an object as heavy as a body to a height as considerable as the height of this building."

"And? How much concentration would that be?"

"If I'm not mistaken, an amount so great that even the smallest distraction would undoubtedly cause a lapse that would send whoever it is I am lifting plummeting to his or her death," Loki said matter-of-factly. "So if any of you do decide to go through with this, you best pray to the Cosmic Entities that I do not have to sneeze," he added with a smirk.

"Oh, _ha-ha_," Darcy said sarcastically. "Could've spared yourself the tongue-flapping and started with 'Sorry, Darce, but there's no way you're _not_ climbing all those stairs tonight.' Anyway, let's go."

Choosing to ignore the pain that every footstep caused her, she stomped down the driveway and toward the double door beside the entrance to the parking garage. Loki, Jane, and Thor followed.

"Padlock," Darcy said a couple of seconds later, coming to a stop and pointing at the single lock hanging from the doors. "But"—she checked the doorframe carefully—"doesn't look as if there's a motion sensor or any kind of other security elaboration installed."

"Excellent," Thor said, then proceeded to rip the padlock from the doors and toss it onto the ground.

"Graceful as always, Brother," Loki remarked.

"Thank you," Thor answered, pushing open the doors.

One by one, the group passed inside and found themselves standing on a grimy, dimly lit staircase landing. The doors shut behind them with a soft click.

"Well, Darce, I'll be damned." Jane murmured, looking around the place with no small amount of surprise on her face, "because that"—she pointed at a set of steps heading downstairs—"must lead down to the basement, and that"—she motioned at the steps heading upstairs—"has got to take us where we wanna go."

"Aw, I'm so glad you never lost faith in me, Jane," Darcy said with mock sweetness, looking around the landing herself. She had indeed been right about the double door being the emergency exit, as a large glowing red "EXIT" sign hung over the doorway. A control panel of some kind hung on the wall beside the doors, which Darcy could only assume was used during the day to program the doors to open exclusively from the inside, thus simultaneously allowing people an exit if needed and keeping the building secure from outsiders.

"And that must be the entrance to the building itself, right?" Jane said, nodding at the only other door leading from the landing, this one clearly requiring a keycard to access and more than likely wired into an alarm system.

"Yup, but there's no way we're passing through there unnoticed, so I hope you weren't secretly hoping we'd be able to get to an elevator or something," Darcy said, kicking off her shoes. "Because I know I sure was."

"Darcy, what are you doing?" Jane asked, looking at Darcy's bare feet judgmentally.

"Saving myself from becoming a cripple by the time we reach the top of this staircase," Darcy said, wiggling her toes against the icy concrete. After the world of pain she had been enduring, it felt amazing.

"Oh, my God," Jane said, her eyes widening. "Your feet _hurt_, don't they? I warned you, Darce. I totally told you so! And you didn't listen, and now this is the result, isn't it?"

"Okay, _Mom_," Darcy intoned, rolling her eyes and picking up her pumps off the floor. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I think I'll be fine climbing some stairs without my shoes on. Might get a cold considering how cold this floor is, but it's not like that'd be the end of the world or something."

"I'm not so much worried about you catching a cold as I'm worried about you catching tetanus!" Jane cried out shrilly. "I mean, have you _seen_ how dirty it is here? Take one step and you'll probably step on an old nail or broken glass! And"—she lowered her voice suddenly, pointing at the ascending flight of steps cautiously—"I swear I heard something scurry up there."

Darcy was about to tell Jane just how ridiculous she was being, but her train of thought was completely interrupted by Loki, who was doing something altogether weird. He had walked over and positioned himself in front of her, his back to her, and had now spread his legs to shoulder width and bent forward slightly. He showed no intention of moving out of this position.

"Uh, Jazz Hands?" Darcy said uncertainly, surveying this new development with one raised eyebrow. "If this is an Asgardian mating ritual, I'm not digging it," she lied.

"Get on," Loki said simply.

Darcy gaped as understanding washed over her. "My gods, Jazz Hands, are you offering me _a piggyback ride_?"

"If that's what you people call it," Loki said, shifting on the spot impatiently. "Get on, before I change my mind."

Grinning madly, and still holding on to her shoes, Darcy placed her hands on Loki's shoulders and then hoisted herself onto his back. He caught her legs just behind the knee and straightened up, adjusting her position on top of him as he did so.

"My love!" Thor exclaimed excitedly, rushing to get into the "boarding" position in front of Jane. "Get on!"

Jane smiled at him awkwardly. "That's kind, Sweetheart, really, but I'm sure I can manage to climb these stairs without your help . . . ."

"Please, my love!" Thor begged. "Do it for me?"

"Do it, Jane," Darcy called out. "_Doooooo eeeeeet._ You know you want to."

Jane sighed, looking frustrated, and Darcy knew that she was about to cave. She was therefore completely unsurprised when just several seconds later, "Oh, all right," Jane said, and then proceeded to hop onto Thor's back.

"Darcy!" Thor cried out suddenly, spinning around so as to face Loki and his passenger. "I have just had the most marvelous idea!"

"It's for the four of us to have a race, right?" Darcy asked, having just had this idea herself.

"Yes!" cried out Thor.

"_No,_" said Loki and Jane simultaneously.

They ended up racing the final five flights of stairs, with Loki and Darcy winning by a literal fraction of a second. Just like all the previous landings, the uppermost one upon which they now found themselves contained a single keycard-accessible door leading presumably to the building beyond, but this landing also housed a metal ladder attached to a padlocked trapdoor built into the ceiling.

"You cheated, Brother!" Thor huffed indignantly, letting Jane slide from his back. "You used magic to cheat, did you not?"

"I know not of what you speak," Loki growled, as Darcy disembarked. "I think you're just being a sore loser, _Brother_." He looked up at the trapdoor, waved his hand, and the padlock vanished from view.

"Less arguing, more climbing, you two," Darcy said, putting her shoes back on. "Come on."

She proceeded to climb the metal ladder, followed closely by Jane, then Loki, and with Thor bringing up the rear. The trapdoor took some fighting with to unjam from its frame, but eventually it opened up to reveal the cloudy night sky.

"This is it," Darcy called down to her companions breathlessly. "We made it."

She lifted herself onto the rooftop, then got out of the way of her friends. Miraculously, the fireworks did not appear to have started yet.

"Ho . . . ly . . . shit . . . ." Jane mumbled, spinning on the spot as she took in the view in every direction. "This is _amazing_."

And Darcy knew that Jane was right, for the view truly _was_ spectacular, but she didn't feel any of the same awe that Jane appeared to be experiencing. Instead, seeing the city from this vantage point only made her feel small and insignificant. Or rather, even more so.

"You did it, Little Mortal," Loki said, flashing her a genuine smile.

"Yeah," Darcy said, forcing a smile back.

"_Oh, my God, the countdown's started!_" Jane squealed suddenly, rushing across the rooftop to the southeastern edge of the building.

"My love!" Thor exclaimed, chasing after her.

Loki threw Darcy a look of amusement, and the two of them followed.

The great London Eye, virtually unobstructed and much closer than Darcy had expected it to be, was staring at them from across low rooftops, and Darcy realized that none of them could've asked for a better view of the fireworks tonight. Both the Eye and the huge-ass building behind it and slightly to its left were lit in blue, and there was indeed a countdown happening. Giant white digits were being projected onto the blue-lit building, counting down the seconds until midnight. There was less than a minute to go.

"Darcy, this is unreal," Jane said, turning to her friend with a look of euphoria on her face.

Darcy nodded, but she felt less than euphoric herself. The truth was that the blue lights were making her feel cold, and every second closer to midnight was like a brand-new cruel reminder of her utter insignificance this dying year . . . .

At 26 seconds to, Big Ben began to chime the Westminster Quarters, which to Darcy sounded lonely, distant, and forlorn. Beside her, Jane was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, pure joy etched into her face.

"Sweetheart, it's about to start!" she said to Thor breathlessly.

And indeed, in no time at all, it was 10 seconds to midnight. Then nine. Then eight. Seven . . . . Six . . . . Five . . . . Four . . . . Three . . . . Two . . . . _One . . . ._

Solemnly, Big Ben began to toll midnight, and with every strike of the great bell, big bursts of white fireworks exploded over the London Eye. Jane screamed and cheered. Thor laughed. Even Loki was smiling. Meanwhile, Darcy wondered why the fireworks seemed to warm everything but her heart.

At the sixth stroke of the clock, Jane turned to Thor, her eyes shining. "You know, Sweetheart," Darcy heard her say, "on New Year's Eve, it's Midgardian tradition to kiss your beloved at the twelfth stroke of midnight . . . ."

"I fall in love with this Realm more and more every single day," Thor answered.

Soon enough, the chiming came to an end, and after the smallest pause, the fireworks started for real. Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy watched Thor sweep Jane into his arms and the two lovebirds commence quite the passionate makeout session. Making a face, she turned to Loki instead.

"Looks like we'll be the only two losers in all of London who won't get a kiss tonight, eh, Jazz Hands?" she asked him sarcastically.

Loki appeared to consider something, then took a step toward her, took her hand in his, and, bending low, pressed his lips, surprisingly warm, to her knuckles.

"Not exactly what I had in mind . . . ." Darcy said quietly, and was surprised to feel her eyes prickle in a way that was entirely disconcerting. It was then that she noticed the look that Loki was giving her. It was apologetic, anguished even. But no, Loki had no reason to feel that way, so Darcy turned away from him and resumed watching the fireworks.

But something strange was happening. Loki had not yet let go of her hand, but continued squeezing her fingers tightly, comfortingly. She looked back up at him in question, but he had already looked away, back at the fireworks. She could've let go of his hand at that moment, but instead, she took a step even closer toward him and leaned her head against his shoulder. A shuddering breath escaped her, and Loki squeezed her fingers even more tightly.

Out in the distance, the fireworks continued their airborne dance, indifferent in their short, joyful bursts of life, and it was beautiful, and heartbreaking, and Darcy cried.


	22. Chapter 22

**Oh... em... goodness. I'm back, believe it or not! *smiles sheepishly* I just wanna start off by saying that I truly do feel horrible for disappearing for an entire summer. I moved out of my parents' in May, and living on my own again has left me with lots to do and little free time. But now that summer's practically over, I'm hoping I won't have as much on my plate social-life wise, which should hopefully leave me with more time to write. Again, I'm so sorry!**

* * *

Darcy awoke to the sound of screaming. She sat up in her bed, wondering if she had dreamt it, but the sound came again, loud and clear and most definitely real. And then it came again. Darcy jumped out of bed.

She ran into the main living area at the same time as Loki, Thor, and Erik, all looking as if they had just rolled out of bed themselves and none looking as if they had any idea of what was happening.

"What's going on?" Darcy asked breathlessly. "Are we under attack?"

"_S.E.E.R.,_" Erik said, and he and Darcy rushed toward the computer bar.

But the S.E.E.R. supercomputer, which sat atop the bar and which had been ceaselessly gathering and interpreting electromagnetic data from all over the planet for several months now, was as peaceful as a tranquilized cucumber. No pulsating red points, no warning messages, no alarm.

"Maybe—" Erik began.

"Where is Jane?" Thor interrupted.

It was as if Darcy's heart had suddenly been turned into a lump of ice. How the hell, even in all this confusion, had she not realized that Jane wasn't with them? Her frantic eyes met Loki's, but he looked as lost and helpless as she felt.

And then the scream came again.

"It is coming from the balcony!" Thor shouted. He raised his right hand, and in a second, Mjølnir came hurtling out of his and Jane's bedroom. The thunder god caught the hammer without looking, then led the way to the balcony door.

No sooner was the door opened that Darcy found herself blinded by purest light. It took her eyes several moments to adjust to the sheer intensity of it, but once they did, the cause of it couldn't have become more apparent.

The balcony, as well as every single rooftop in sight, was covered with a four-inch-thick crystal-white blanket of snow, which in the light of the rising morning sun was blazing like a myriad of luminescent diamonds.

"Guys!" squealed Jane's voice somewhere to Darcy's left.

The research assistant spun on the spot, and a flood of relief washed over her. There, in the snow, barefoot, wearing nothing but her PJs, stood Jane, quite safe and sound.

"My love!" Thor cried out, rushing into the snow himself and embracing his girlfriend closely. "What are you doing out here? Was it you who screamed?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, that was me," Jane answered, grinning around at them all madly. "I got up to go pee, but then I looked outside, and—_look_!" She scooped snow up from the ground and began forming it into a ball in her hands. "It snowed overnight! Can you believe it? It's the middle of March, and we finally get snow like this!" She laughed and crushed the snowball between her fingers.

"So you are all right?" Thor asked her blankly.

"Oh, absolutely!" she replied.

Darcy smiled in amusement. As much as she wanted to facepalm at the fact that Jane had nearly given them all heart attacks over _snow_, she nevertheless had to admit that the Boss Lady definitely had a point about _one_ thing: Until now, in all the previous winter months combined, they had gotten less than a single inch of snow, all of which had melted as soon as it had hit the ground.

"Jane . . . my love . . . you need to come inside before you get frostbite," Thor said gently, beginning to lead Jane back into the apartment.

"No . . . ." Jane said, looking anguished. "Not inside . . . . We need to go _outside_. Out onto the street! Come with me, guys? _Please?_"

"As long as you dress for the weather, I will absolutely come with you," Thor said, finally managing to get the overexcited scientist back inside the apartment.

"Erik? Darcy? Loki?" Jane asked, looking between the three of them hopefully.

"Sorry, my dear," Erik said, shutting the balcony door behind Jane and Thor, "but I have to start getting ready for work now. I teach all day on Fridays, remember?"

"Oh," Jane said, her face falling. "Right."

"But Loki and I will go!" Darcy chimed in quickly.

"You will?" Jane asked, brightening instantly.

"We will?" Loki said, less than eagerly.

"_Yes, we will,_" Darcy hissed pointedly.

"Great!" Jane said, beaming again. "Then go snowsuit up, everyone!"

Giggling at Jane's enthusiasm, Darcy returned to her bedroom to get dressed. She didn't own a snowsuit, had never really needed one, and she figured she could make do without one now too. So, slipping out of her booty shorts and tank top, she pulled on a red blouse, a chocolate-brown cardigan, and her favorite pair of skinny jeans, and returned to the main living area to join Loki, Jane, and Thor, who were already in the hallway, putting on their coats and boots. Darcy grabbed her own gray toggle coat from its hook and threw it on, followed by brown leather boots, a blue scarf, and her signature magenta beanie.

"Everyone ready?" Jane asked excitedly.

There was a murmur of agreement from the group.

"_Then what are we waiting for?_" Jane demanded, and then proceeded to usher everyone out of the flat.

They took the elevator down to the main-floor lobby, Jane looking more and more excited with every passing moment, and as soon as the elevator doors slid open, the astrophysicist in question practically sprinted to the main door, with Darcy just behind her and Thor and Loki bringing up the rear. Jane swung the glass door open and ran onto the sidewalk beyond . . . and then got dowsed by a shower of muddy slush thrown into the air by the tires of a passing double-decker.

"Oh, no . . . ." Darcy muttered, coming to a stop beside Jane. And she wasn't talking about the fact that Jane was currently dripping dirty slush water from her head to her toe.

No, what she was referring to was the fact that there was no snow on the ground. Or rather, there _was_, but the mild temperature and the combination of the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk and the vehicular traffic on the street had turned it into a slushy mess the exact consistency of porridge.

"Well then," Jane said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket and sniffing wetly.

"Oh, that is too bad, my love," Thor said sympathetically, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"There's always next winter . . . ." Darcy attempted hopefully. "Who knows, we might even get _more_ snow than this!"

"Yes, only for it to get trampled and get turned into mush within five minutes of it falling," Jane retorted bitterly.

"I don't understand," Loki said, looking confused. "Why not just go onto the rooftop? There wouldn't have been any foot traffic up there whatsoever."

Darcy, Jane, and Thor turned and stared at him, then at each other.

"Damn, that's smart," Darcy said.

"Can't believe I didn't think of that," Jane muttered.

"What would we do without you, Brother?" Thor exclaimed.

Loki smirked. "I do not know, Thunder Wonder. I do not know."

On their way back inside, they met Erik in the lobby, on his way out.

"Jane, what happened?" he asked immediately. "You look like you went for a swim in a muddy puddle."

Jane's eyes slowly narrowed into slits, but then, out of nowhere, she smiled sweetly. "You're taking the bus to the university, right, Erik?" she asked.

"I am," Erik answered.

Jane's smile grew wider. "One just went by, but I'm sure the next one will be here soon. Have fun!"

"Er . . . thanks, Jane?" Erik said, looking very confused.

"You're welcome, buddy!" Jane answered happily, patting Erik on the shoulder and then proceeding toward the elevator.

Darcy, Loki, and Thor followed, with Darcy muttering to Erik as she passed, "It's a trap."

Once back in the apartment, Jane decided that she had better change her jacket before continuing up onto the roof. Meanwhile, Loki started taking off his boots.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Darcy asked him immediately.

"I'm not going up there," Loki replied.

"But you're the one who suggested it!" Darcy cried out indignantly.

"Exactly," Loki said. "So I have played my part in making Jane happy."

"Yes, but don't you _want_ to go out in the snow?" Darcy pressed on.

"Not particularly," Loki answered.

"Wait," Darcy said, something finally clicking in her brain. "Are you telling me you don't _like_ snow?"

"It is not my favorite thing in the universe, no."

"But you're a Frost Giant!" Darcy exclaimed incredulously. "How can you possibly not like snow?"

Loki shrugged. "I don't know. I just never did."

"Do not lie, Brother," Thor, who had apparently been listening in on Darcy and Loki's entire conversation, interjected suddenly. "You adored playing in the snow back when we were children. Or have you forgotten all the snow forts and snowmen we built?"

"Perhaps I have not so much forgotten as suppressed those memories, after learning of my true heritage in the way that I did," Loki responded scathingly.

"Oh, come on, Queen Elsa," Darcy cooed. "_Don't you wanna build a snowmaaaaan?_"

Loki scowled at her, but then his scowl turned into a smirk. "How badly do you want me to go up there with you?"

Darcy sighed. "What do you want?"

"For you to never call me 'Queen Elsa' again."

"That's not fair."

Loki began studying his fingernails lazily. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

"You strike a hard bargain, Loki Odinson," Darcy said accusingly.

Loki continued to study his fingernails. altogether indifferent.

"_Fine,_" Darcy said, after several seconds. "I will never call you 'Queen Elsa' again . . ." She paused. ". . . _Your Princelypants_."

Loki's eyes snapped up from his nails and proceeded to attempt to burn a hole in Darcy's soul. "I dislike you. Strongly," he informed her.

"I know," Darcy said, grinning triumphantly.

Just as Loki had predicted, the snow up on the roof was damn near immaculate, with the morning sun bathing the rooftop in bright, warm light. It was such a happy scene that Darcy could almost forget what had happened the last time that she and Loki had been up here.

Squealing happily, Jane leaped forward into the snow, then collapsed backward into it and began producing a vigorous snow angel. Darcy couldn't help but chuckle at the Boss Lady's childlike overenthusiasm again.

"You know, Jane, I never have understood your obsession with the white stuff," she said to the thrashing scientist with an amused grin.

"That would be because you were raised in North Carolina," Jane responded matter-of-factly, continuing her ridiculous limb-flailing. "Doesn't it only snow three days per year there? I, on the other hand, was born in Vermont. This is my element."

"That is fair," Darcy conceded.

"What is it that you are doing, my love?" Thor asked, walking over and looking both curious and slightly concerned.

"I'm making a snow angel!" Jane answered proudly. "See?" She got up off the ground and gestured at the shape she had created in the snow.

"Oh!" Thor said, understanding washing over him, and he smiled. "Yes, I see it!"

"Come make one with me!" Jane said excitedly, taking Thor by the hand and dragging him off to another untouched patch of snow.

As Jane and Thor flopped backward into the snow and began making two more highly energetic snow angels, Darcy walked back to where Loki stood alone by the trap door.

"You really aren't enjoying yourself, are you?" she asked him, feeling slightly bad. But only slightly.

"I can think of about a thousand things that I would rather be doing right now," he answered, kicking at the snow with the toe of one of his Asgardian boots, as if challenging it to be more interesting.

Darcy could think of about a thousand things that she would rather be doing right now, too, all of them to Loki on her bed and none of them involving him wearing the black peacoat that he was currently wearing, no matter how sexy he looked in it. Before she got _too_ sad and horny, however, Darcy retrieved her mind from the gutter where it was wallowing and directed it at other things.

"So you really _don't_ wanna build a snowman?" she asked the mischief god, fighting back a smirk.

"I do not," Loki said dispassionately.

"What about making a snow angel?"

"_Absolutely_ not."

"How about just walking around the roof for a little bit?"

"No."

Darcy rubbed her chin, thinking. "Oh, I know! _An epic snowball fight._ You and I against Jane and Thor!"

"Sorry," Loki began, "not interes-"

A snowball sailed past Darcy and hit Loki in the chest, leaving a large white mark on his black coat. Loki looked down at it, his expression as indifferent as ever, while Darcy spun around to see who it was who had the death wish.

Jane was standing some distance behind her, her hands over her mouth in shock, with Thor, laughing soundlessly, standing beside her.

The astrophysicist threw her hands up in the air, palms forward, in surrender. "I'm so sorry! I was trying to hit Darcy—"

Loki ignored her and simply brushed the snow from his peacoat nonchalantly. "_As I was saying_, I have no interest in having a snowball—"

The second snowball hit Loki in the shoulder, considerably more forcefully than the first.

Darcy saw Loki's eye twitch, and spun around again to see who had the death wish _this_ time around.

"Do not worry, Darcy!" Thor yelled at her, grinning. "_My_ aim was true!"

"—_I have no interest in having a snowball fi-_" Loki blurted out all at once, but was once again interrupted as a _third_ snowball flew over Darcy and skimmed the top of his head.

"Ooh, so close, my love!" Darcy heard Thor exclaim behind her, as Jane burst out laughing.

Loki's eye was twitching uncontrollably now. His hands balled into fists, and Darcy could suddenly feel that all-familiar tingly aura of magic emanating from him.

"I've had quite enough of this childish tomfoolery," the disgruntled god ground out through clenched teeth. "You can call me whatever you want, Darcy. I am leaving."

Darcy watched it happen as though it were in slow motion. Loki turned and took a step back toward the trapdoor, at the same time as a fourth snowball came whizzing through the air. Before Loki could have time to react, the snowball collided very audibly with his bare ear.

Loki stopped, and a deathly silence descended upon the rooftop. For a second, nobody spoke or moved. Then, slowly, emotionlessly, Loki wiped the snow from the side of his head and said, "You are about to regret this, Brother."

With a surge in his magical aura, the mischief god extended his hand in front of him, palm up, and awestruck, Darcy watched him begin to perform a type of magic which she had never seen him perform before: A small, silvery something began forming in the air a couple of inches above the god's palm, growing bigger and more solid with every second, and soon enough, Darcy realized exactly what he was making: a solid, snowball-sized ice ball.

"Oh, shit," she said, then, laughing and screaming, she ran toward Jane and Thor.

Loki hurled the ice ball at the thunder god, not by throwing it, Darcy noticed, but by telekinetically propelling it through the air with such speed and accuracy that Thor was barely able to duck out of its way in time. And Loki was already making himself a replacement. But Thor was quicker once again, actually throwing himself to the ground to get out of the way of the incoming projectile.

Loki formed himself another ice ball, but this time, he didn't fire it off straight away. Instead, he allowed it to simply hover above the open palm of his right hand, as he appeared to rethink his strategy.

Thor, having picked himself up off the ground, stood at the ready. "Will you be all right, Brother?" he yelled out happily. "Or should I call upon Clint Barton to help you with your aim?"

Loki smirked, and Darcy knew that Thor had just made a grave mistake. And indeed, the next moment, Loki had his left hand out in front of him as well and was magically forming _four_ more ice balls.

Suddenly, Thor didn't look so cocky.

The ice balls were fully formed within seconds, and before Thor could so much as blink, Loki was bombarding him like an artillerist in a warzone. Thor dodged the first ice ball, ducked out of the way of the second, miraculously avoided the third, and performed a feat of acrobatics that Darcy had previously thought not Aesirly possible to avoid contact with the fourth.

The fifth ball hit him square in the forehead, disintegrating upon impact.

The light behind Thor's eyes dimmed. He wobbled on the spot, and then fell over backward, spreadeagle.

"Thor!" Jane screamed, and she and Darcy rushed toward the fallen warrior.

But Thor was already getting up from the ground, rubbing his forehead and laughing heartily. "Nice shot, Brother!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks," Loki said smugly. "Now, have we all had enough? May we be adults now and go back inside?"

"Yes," Thor said soberly. "Let us go."

As Loki turned toward the trapdoor again, Thor looked at Darcy and Jane and hissed, "Quick! Throw more snowballs at him!"

"You just read my mind, Thunder Wonder," Darcy said, with a smirk that could put the mischief god himself to shame.

"We must be on the same wavelength," Jane said, smiling darkly.

The three snowballs hit Loki in the ass, in the inside of the knee, and in the back of the head.

"_Are you joking me?_" Loki bellowed, twisting around.

And that was the beginning of the single greatest snowball fight in Darcy's life.

"Three against one?" Loki demanded, dodging a subsequent volley of snowballs from Darcy, Jane, and Thor. "Really?"

"You have magic!" Darcy yelled in response. "So this is more than fair!"

And she had a good point, because it wasn't long before Loki was the one dominating the game. His magically propelled snowballs had far better aim than any of Darcy, Jane, or Thor's, and the ice balls that he produced especially for Thor had the thunder god dodging for his life most of the time, rather than firing shots. Meanwhile, Jane's frantic attempts at defending her celestial boyfriend had her missing about 90 percent of her shots, no doubt thanks to the near-panicked state she was in, which left Darcy as the only person on her team who was putting up any kind of real fight at all.

She was covered in snow from all the times she'd already been hit (her clumsiness and general lack of coordination made dodging Loki's snowballs practically impossible for her), and she couldn't throw very hard (sports involving copious amounts of throwing, like softball, had never been her forte), but she was pleased to see that the majority of her shots still found their mark. In fact, thanks to her, Loki was covered in almost as much snow as she was. But he was still winning by a mile.

And then Thor caught one of the ice balls.

It was like something out of an action movie: Time seemed to slow down again, as Loki fired four more ice balls at Thor in quick succession. But this time, Thor was quicker. Simultaneously, Darcy and Jane teamed up for a sudden sneak attack, and in the split second that it took Loki to duck out of the way of their incoming snowballs, Thor fired the ice ball, a true Hail Mary shot.

With a burst of ice dust, the ball found its target, hitting Loki in his left shin, just below his kneecap and right above where his boot ended. Howling with pain, Loki clutched at the place where the ball had hit him and collapsed sideways onto the ground.

Darcy, Jane, and Thor cheered loudly.

"How are you doing over there, Brother?" Thor called out to the motionless form. "Just say you surrender, and this can be over right now!"

Slowly, shakily, Loki got back to his feet. "_Never,_" he hissed, his eyes like snake slits.

And the battle resumed, with Loki fighting like a true maniac now. But he no longer dared use ice balls, which put him at a considerable disadvantage compared to round one. Thor, no longer fearing for his life, was now able to throw three times as many snowballs at Loki as he had been beforehand. Jane, no longer fearing for Thor's life either, was able to throw her snowballs with a much higher level of accuracy. Unfortunately, however, their gameplan appeared to focus more on throwing as many snowballs as quickly as possible rather than on taking the time to actually aim, so even though Loki was getting hit considerably more than he had been getting hit the first time around, he still wasn't getting hit nearly as much as Darcy wanted to _see_ him get hit. So she decided to apply a bit more strategy to her game than Jane and Thor were applying to theirs.

Choosing moments when Loki would be particularly distracted thanks to having to dodge simultaneous snowball volleys from both Jane and Thor, she would fire off a single, meticulously aimed, snowball at the mischief god and thus nearly always hit her target. This went on for quite some time, until finally, after three consecutive snowballs of Darcy's had managed to hit Loki right in the head, the mischief god turned to her and said seethingly, "Do you think I don't know what you're doing, Little Mortal?"

"I dunno," Darcy answered haughtily. "_Do_ I? Because if you _did_ know what I'm doing, I'm assuming you'd have already done something about—"

When she saw the massive snowball appear like from behind a shimmering veil as if flew toward her, it was far too late. She didn't even have time to _think_ about ducking as it collided with her face, going into her mouth and behind her glasses and in her hair and sending her flying onto her ass, blinded, her glasses ultimately tumbling into the snow.

There was much yelling and screaming on Jane and Thor's part, and then they were pulling Darcy back to her feet. Thor was wiping her face with his mittens, Jane was recovering her glasses from the snow and wiping them on her jacket, and then, once Darcy's glasses, undamaged, had been returned to her face, there was much glaring in the direction of the mischief god.

"That was dirty, Loki," Jane said accusingly. "Very dirty."

"And you will pay for it," Thor said threateningly.

"_Let's finish this,_" Darcy announced, cracking her knuckles.

"I don't understand what you are all so upset about," Loki said, smiling nonchalantly from his position by the trapdoor. "Darcy did say that I am allowed to use my magic. To make it fair. Didn't you, Little Mortal?" As he spoke, he formed four ice balls in midair, and then, with a smirk, he rendered them invisible.

"Bring it on, Jazz Hands," Darcy whispered.

She would regret saying that less than ten minutes later. Now, she wasn't sure if Loki had simply forgotten about his invisibility power until now, or if he'd been saving his best ability for last, or if he'd just wanted to give her, Jane, and Thor false hope, but the fact remained that while using this ability, the mischief god was more powerful than ever before. With there no longer being a threat of Thor catching the ice balls, he had had brought them back, and any and all snowballs being fired and Darcy and Jane were also being rendered invisible.

There _was_ one disadvantage to this new technique of Loki's however: He couldn't see his projectiles either, and Darcy, Jane, and Thor had discovered early on into round three that if the three of them just moved around a lot, it greatly compromised the trickster's aim. But it was exhausting. And despite their best efforts, they were still getting hit and hit hard. And really, the more that Darcy thought about it, the more she realized that their prognosis was hopeless: She and Jane would be out of the game soon, due to exhaustion alone. Thor would keep going, but in the end, he would still never be a match for Loki's magic. Unavoidably, Loki would win. Hell, he had already won.

Unless . . . .

Darcy's idea was crazy. It also had a 99.9 percent chance of failure. But it was their only hope of even possibly defeating the God of Mischief.

So, without a word to Jane and Thor, the bespectacled brunette dropped the snowball which she had been in the process of forming, raised her arms to eye level in order to protect her face from the pummeling that would surely come, and ran full speed at the mischief god.

At first, just as she had guessed he would, Loki tried to impede her progress by bombarding her with a series of snowballs. But after hitting his target five times with absolutely no effect, the trickster ceased his attack and simply awaited Darcy's arrival with a mildly curious look on his face.

Darcy slammed into his chest and began pushing him with all her might toward the edge of the rooftop which overhung their balcony.

"Little Mortal, may I inquire as to what you are attempting to do?" Loki asked her politely several seconds later, not having budged a single inch.

"I'm going to push you off the roof!" Darcy huffed in response, her feet sliding on the spot as she continued to strain against the mischief god. "It is the only way to defeat you!"

"I see," Loki said nonchalantly. "Here, let me help you with that."

To Darcy's shock, Loki began to walk backwards, allowing Darcy to push him closer and closer to the edge of the roof. But just when she thought that he would really let her push him off, he came to a stop, his heels two inches from the edge. Clasping his hands behind his back, he became an immovable boulder once more.

"Almost . . . there," Darcy heaved, continuing to push and shove with all the strength she had left, which wasn't much: Inevitably, she was beginning to succumb to the exhaustion she had been dreading.

Which wasn't as bad as the other feeling to which she was succumbing.

Physical activity, adrenaline rushes, and, above all, _competition_ had always culminated in one thing for her: the extreme desire to fuck someone. And right now, that someone was Loki. And currently being plastered to his chest was definitely _not_ helping.

"I most graciously accept your surrender," Loki said cheekily from somewhere above her head about a minute later.

"You . . . _suck_," Darcy groaned, finally slumping, spent, against Loki's chest.

"About time," Loki said smugly. "This was getting rather tedi-"

Something slammed into Darcy's back, knocking the breath out of her and pancaking her even further against Loki's chest. _Oh, shit,_ Darcy thought, her body going into full proximity alert mode. _Oh, no._

"I got you, girl," Jane said from behind her, pushing with surprising strength against Darcy and Loki both. "We can finish this."

But Loki might've had a stronger reaction to Jane's arrival if she had been a butterfly. "Jane, while I am impressed with your spirit," he was saying lazily, "I must inform you that your and Darcy's endeavor is quite futile. I weigh thrice as much as a mortal man. The power it would take to push me off the edge of this rooftop . . . ." He trailed off. Then: "Thor, what are you doing?" Serious concern in his voice now: "Thor, don't even think about it!" And finally, panic: "_Brother, stop!_"

The next thing Darcy knew, her ribcage was cracking, and then she and Loki were flying through the air—

"_Darcy!_" Jane shrieked, and Darcy felt the Boss Lady's hands grabbing at the back of her coat, holding on, and then Jane was screaming even harder, and Darcy knew she was falling too . . . .

"My love, I have got you!" Thor's voice and Jane no longer screaming, and Darcy feeling her coat slip out of Jane's hands. Uninhibited freefall now, and Loki's arms coming up and around her, and Darcy drawing herself instinctively into a ball, and then—

Impact.

"Darcy!" Jane screamed again, her voice carrying from somewhere high above. "Are you okay?"

_Good question,_ Darcy thought to herself, her eyes shut tight in fear of what she would discover once she did open them. She didn't _feel_ as if she'd injured herself, which was a start. She could also tell that she had landed on her elbows and knees, with her head down, on top of something more-or-less soft.

And then the soft thing moaned.

Darcy's eyes snapped open. Carefully lifting her head, she proceeded to look around.

She was crouching on top of Loki, his arms still wrapped protectively around her. _(Oh, shit. Oh, no.)_ The mischief god himself was lying flat on his back on top of their balcony, onto which they had just fallen. As for Jane and Thor, Darcy figured that they must still be up on the rooftop.

And then it occurred to her that Loki wasn't moving or saying anything.

"Jazz?" she asked hesitantly. "You . . . . You all right?"

"I will be as soon as you get your knee out of my crotch," Loki croaked.

"Oh!" Darcy said, immediately sitting up and adjusting her position. But now she was sitting on top of Loki, straddling him. _Oh, no._

"Are you okay, Darcy?" Jane's worried voice came again from up on the rooftop.

"They are fine, Jane." Thor's voice this time, knowing. "Come. We still have a snowman to build." And Thor and Jane's footfalls faded away across the rooftop.

Finally, Loki sat up as well, Darcy sliding down into his lap. Their faces were inches apart. _Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit._

"Are you planning to get off me, or . . . ?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow lazily.

"Yeah, for sure," Darcy replied, "but first . . . _revenge, motherfucker_!" And then she scooped up two great handfuls of wet snow and shoved them in Loki's face.

Loki sighed, shutting his eyes against the onslaught of snow but otherwise doing nothing. "Yes, I suppose I deserve that."

"I am literally rubbing my revenge into your face right now," Darcy said enthusiastically, continuing to pick up handfuls of snow and mash them into Loki's face.

"You are a clever mortal, I'll give you that," Loki ground out.

"Now I understand what the Klingons meant when they said revenge is a dish best served cold," Darcy said, forcing snow into Loki's mouth.

"I bet you do," Loki choked.

"I could do this all day!" Darcy exclaimed happily.

"But you won't," Loki said, finally catching a hold of Darcy's wrists and bringing her snowy assault to an indisputable halt.

For a second, Darcy just stared at him. Then she attempted to free herself of his grasp, but it accomplished nothing. This made her angry. And seriously aroused. Which made her even angrier. "Let me go, Loki," she then practically growled at the mischief god.

"As you wish, Miss Lewis," Loki answered, and let go of Darcy's wrists.

And suddenly Darcy couldn't hold back any longer. Taking Loki's face in her hands, she leaned forward and desperately pressed her lips to his.

It was simultaneously everything and nothing like she had thought it would be. Loki's lips were soft, as they had been when he had brushed them against her knuckles atop the rooftop on New Year's Eve, but they were also so cold and wet that the contact had initially shocked her, although she didn't know what she'd expected, considering she'd basically just bathed the god's entire face in wet, icy snow.

For a glorious six seconds, Darcy had absolutely no control of herself. But then the reality of what she was doing hit her like a bucketful of cold water, and in a panic, she pulled away.

Fear gripped her like a steel vise. Was this it? Had she just sacrificed her perfectly satisfactory friendship with Loki for _one dumb kiss_? She searched the god's face for the answers she was so desperately seeking, but it was a mask. And damn it all if he didn't look more beautiful to her now than he had ever looked before, his black hair never so stark against his pale skin, his eyes never so blue.

And then she saw it, in his eyes: a storm. An emotional tempest. A battle within his own soul that seemed to be causing him so much turmoil, Darcy was momentarily struck dumb by the sheer intensity of it. For one blissful moment, she even forgot she might be seconds away from losing him.

"Fuck it," the god said suddenly, and the next thing Darcy knew, his hands were in her hair and she was being pulled against his body, against his mouth. She could hardly understand what was happening. Their lips collided with insatiable hunger, and Darcy moaned against Loki's mouth, overwhelmed with desire. Her hands, previously unoccupied, found their way to the small of Loki's back and pulled him, if possible, even closer. Loki seemed to approve, as he responded with a throaty growl, his mouth opening to her own. Taking this to be an invitation, Darcy eagerly returned the favor, and moments later Loki's powerful tongue was slowly and skillfully caressing hers.

Drowning in his taste, Darcy found that she no longer cared about understanding.

In fact, she found that she no longer cared about anything.

* * *

**With this ending, can you guys forgive me for being MIA for so long? ^^'**

***EDITED to fix typos. :)**


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